JM

Of a Spiritual Quandary ...

2008-02-08T09:01:00.000-05:00

I grew up on latrines … I mean I grew up using latrines for number 2 and anywhere for number 1. For the slow ones, I grew up deep in the village. I used to go to school barefoot, with no vunda every other day (tulikuwa tunashare na bro …), and torn shorts and shirts … and a protruded belly … tulikuwa tunasukuma ugali na sukuma kila wiki …tungali … PSYCHE …

I used my first modern toilet at the “tender” age of …ummm … 9 or 10.

That was when I was shipped to boarding school for the first time. I remember looking at that thing and wondering “just how do you use this thing?” … granted the HOLE was bigger than the kijiji ones, but it was also HIGHER up … it was impossible to assume my village position!

But as y’all may (not) know, the village endows you with plenty of skills which are useful at problematic times such as those …

So I CLIMBED…

And CLIMBED … until I went to high school …

It took a harsh lesson to “STOP CLIMBING” … toilets that is …

You see, I ate quite well after KCPE. My first CLIMB in high school was the last one to-date. I climbed, and came down “mid-work” with the whole damn thing. Talk about shit hitting the floor … but I did learn the “methodology”

The other day, I mean many years ago, in a drunken daze, I walked into a “kibanda” and proceeded to order some samosas “to go” …

And go I did …

The kao-kyuk in me took over: Alas … I mean haraaa …

To make it worse, I was in my local church, working hard to stifle a nice nap that was threatening to muzzle the pastor’s Hallelujah … it was my punishment for spiritual insubordination.

So I dashed to the “recently dug” latrines. There at awaited my disaster. In no order, this is my list of complaints:

The HOLE seemed like the size of a cup mug opening

It was triangular – meaning your “ass-gymnastics” had to be pin-point

It was, quite literally a few inches from the door, meaning that your said gymnastics would only be perfect if your knees were outside the “shed” consequently implying the door had to be open …

The shed was 1 BY 2 or thereabouts in dimension … as if intended for dwarfs or something …

Dear Lord, amnesty It was a smear campaign …am nasty ...

Amnasty.

King "dong"

2008-02-04T09:15:00.000-05:00

I was here and I saw this ...

I am still trying to work out the ratio but it's teetering dangerously close to infinity:1

And you thought things were thick??

Predator vs Prey

2008-01-17T09:50:00.000-05:00

I have a phobia for rats.

Last weekend, I walked into my kitchen and found a giant, nay, a hybrid rat bathing and splashing away in some milk I had boiled and kept in a sufuria for my breakfast tea. I chased him, through the sitting room, out of the house, through the shamba,until he disappeared through a small hole in my neighbour's house. I knew he'd be back unless I did something …

There are virtually no lions at the Aberdares Game Park. They were all culled to preserve the endangered giant hog and some exotic sounding gazelle … There are, indeed no predators that can boast to have downed a buffalo (save for old and sickly ones) in that game pack in the recent past … yet the buffaloes still stick together … in big herds …because they think the lions will get them if they don't … so they keep eating the same grass - with neither colour nor nutrients - …afraid to venture out where the lush green grass awaits … for there the fearsome lions lurk … so their memory tells them … if only one brave buffalo would dare venture out …

Let me tell you about the gian trodent that was bathing in my milk...

He is now dead. I went to my neighbour and relayed my adventure. Then we both took sticks, poured hot water in that hole and did some serious rodent community work. We killed the swimmer, his numerous wives, and several younglings that were being groomed for terror. I did not burn down my neighbor's house … which would have produced the same effect – a dead rat (s).

As we grieve about the current situation in our country, let us ask ourselves:

Who has wronged us? Is it the rat or the neighbour?

And oh, I almost forgot about my buffaloes ...

THINK PEOPLE:

Who is the prey and who is the predator? Does the common Omondi have more in common with the common Mwangi or with Raila and Kibaki respectively? Folks we are prey, yet we are preying on each other, weakening ourselves ... wait till the predators close in on us in our weakened state ...

IN OTHER NEWS:

I AM BACK.

I Came, I Saw, I almost Conquered ...

2007-10-23T05:15:00.000-04:00

Parting Words ...

Back then … in another time zone …

I used to dream up posts.
I used to fantasize them at work
And even after work, late into the night …
I used to write pre-drafts, drafts and final versions of my posts …
Blogging made me happy(iest …)

BUT NOW:

The Mojo is gone.
Not much motivation
No more dreams about posts …

YET:

I honestly do not feel like I miss it!
Maybe I need a break …
Maybe blogging was my escape from missing Kenya …
My way of connecting with Kenyans without being physically present …

NO MATTER:

Let me continue watching from the sidelines
Let me take this break
Let me fcking enjoy Kenya …
And (if or when) am over the fun …
I will (might) be back ….

IT’S BEEN:

Real
Funny
Educating
Fcking Controversial

BUT MOSTLY

Thoroughly Enjoyable!!

THANK YOU ALL!!

(Hugz) to all chicks (with a special kiss for *one* mnamjua na anajijua )

Menacing look to all jamaaz :)

Kwaheri Ya Kuonana …

Mother of all Coincidences ...

2007-08-29T08:21:00.000-04:00

I am working from a block generously given to our project at the Kakamega Provincial General Hospital. Comp speeds there are much better than at the hotel, lakini I can't praise 'em too much ...

That's why am blogg ... oops (sending my report to head office) from "downtown" Kakameka ...

So, routine for coming to said downtown is very simple; request a dere from the Operations Manager huku hivi, and if there is one free, ni wako ...

So Mburu was free sasa hivi. he decided to test my Kisapere once we started the 5 minute drive or so ...

Dere: Where is home?
Me: Nai
Dere: Nai where?
Me: [I told him Nai where ...] as in huko shagz ...
Dere: Am also from those sides ...
Me: Those sides where?
Dere:[He told me those sides where ...] as in more shagz than those sides of ours ...
Me: Ehe ... My mum is from [the same place that dere is from] ...
Dere: What is her name?
Me: Njeri ...
Dere: Njeri of who ? [ am translating direct ...]
Me: Njeri of ... [I told him Njeri of who ...]
Dere: Haiya, Njeri the one married to Mbitu?
Me: Yes, that one, am the son ...
Dere: Do you know her your grandmother and my mother are sisters !!
Me: Errr ... kindA no ...

So dude is my uncle or what? Kind of a small world, ain't it?

Kakamega update ...

2007-08-28T10:41:00.000-04:00

What am Not Liking About Kakamega

Missing her ...
Mosquitoes with teeth
White lizards
MONSTER birds - I hear they beba kidoz ...
Hotel Renovations
DSTV - step up guys!! GTV ndio mambo - need to rewatch that Man U game ...
Dial-up at hotel @ 10/= a minute!! WHAT!! It takes 5 MINUTES 2 load a page ...

What Am Liking

Office staff - very hospitable
Local choirs - I swear these Omunduz can sing ... almost missed lunch listening to a church belt out some tunes ...
Hotel Food - pleasant surprise - never failing on the kuku ... too bad I don't get reimbursed for the cold tuskers ...

Will be back in Nai on Friday ...

Love

2007-08-16T10:01:00.000-04:00

is a beautiful thing ...

it teaches

it frustrates

it fulfils

and it rocks.

i love

her.

Mwangilicious ...

2007-08-14T01:14:00.000-04:00

I have become so Mwangilicious these past week ...

I may not be an equal opportunity employee (eoe) (trust me, I have seen what my bosses and some consultants are making) but I definitely am an equal opportunity employer (EOE).

I mean, on my first day of work, after the Mat had dropped me in Westi (hapo kwa round about ya Sarit) ... I decided to get my only pair of work shoes polished. So I sat on the stool, spread me three legs and put two of them on the stone, leaving the third one to the mercies of the merciless August morning breeze ...

"Sema Mwangi ..."

I looked up, wondering nani huyo. Before I could utter a word, the shoe shiner replied and said "Nikwega Muno ..." (Poa sana ... loosely translated) ... No biggie ... Mwangi's are many so sio coincidence that Mwangi was both the doer and the doee ... with the shoe being the object for the dirty minds out there ... (I have since reformed ... ) lol ...

Lakini Mwangi the doer seems to be lazier than Mwangi the doee. Si I struck a rapport with my namesake and made it a habit of letting him do my shoes kila asubuhi, often, ongezaing a kaloose 10 bob extra ... but he started sleeping and I like being at work by 7.30 AM meaning lazima awe hapo by 7 ...

So jana I hamad to the other side ... a street down towards Waiyaki Way ... hapo Woodvale Grove. I sat down and perfomed the now memorized leg spreading ritual ...

"Uga Mwangi" ... (hi Mwangi)

Okay this time it had to be me the doee but ALAS ... it was the doer once again. "Di mwega muno" (I am very well ) replied the doer as he pokead the gazeti from the newspaper man.

This morning, he did me shoes again ... it seems I can't escape me. I really want to know how many of us shine njumus in Westi ...

parting shot ...

Is it plainly obvious that I smoke something extra ... I mean I don't think ... I mean I can't remember ... I mean no I don't ...

So yesterday evening as I am waiting hapo kwa jam Westi ... this guy approaches me ... immediately I become very alert, waiting, ready for anything. I know he is definitely fixed on my trajectory. When he fikas, he tells me:

"Bro, makuti mii husambaza ... unataka?"

I was momentarily lost in the lingua. Okay sambaza I have since nyambuad from SafCom ... lakini makuti ... err ... then I smelled the unmistakable aroma that was the delight and delicacy of my college weekends na huko hivo mbali ...

I told him "zii".

Lastly:

Galileo's Kesho night is a plot.

Utamu tu ...

2007-08-06T10:29:00.001-04:00

Mbuzi walidedi last sato
Wataendelea kudedi ...
Na yenyewe tutusker bado tutamu ... kwanza tukiwa baridi ...
Seasons .... lunch deadly sana
Java ... I feel like a minority in my own country ...
Kengeles ... live band raha kiplani lakini itabidi niende Galileos ...(?) ... naskia huko ndio inabamba ...
Nini ingine ... hmmm ... ah, ok ...

Milo - tick - anafanana na Bro kiplani ... lol ... lakini haezi meza tusker na rate yangu ...
M - tick ... seems serious, focussed ...
Jade Kitten ... tick ... guys drool ... ni hivyo tu ...
Vagabond ... tick ...
Unyc ... tick and then tock ... then tick again ... ebu waambie ...
Bants ... ati "niko kwa jam jogoo road ..." keep time next tyme ... hehe
Modo ... pending
Mishale ... Pending ... niaje hiyo Charity Shield ...
Methu ... pending ... lakini nina idea ... risto nimeskia ... looking 4ward ...
Komi ... pending uko wapi?
Kipepeo ... unanihata nakuhata ...
Kirima ... pending ... holla kabla urudi jobo ...
Boyflani ... leta mambo ...
And others: 4give me if I left ne1 out ...

Fcuk me ... ain't nothing like nyumbani !! Ni kutamu vimajor. Definitely worth ... even though I know mtasema eti "familiarity italeta contempt ..." ... I think I heard the same thing about e-love ... hehe ... guess ni nani anacheka ... watch this space ...

Back Home ... Day 4

2007-08-02T05:57:00.000-04:00

"Mwangi, Mwangi ... WAKE UP ...WAKE UP"

That was my mother this morning as she banged on my door at 6 am.

"WTF for?" is what I was going to shout to her but checked myself just in time. Apparently, the mere fact that she was leaving the house to go to work warranted my waking up. Ati haezi acha mtu kwa bed ... WTF ... I was snoring again before she even fikad kwa gate ...

I went by the office where I'll be working from Monday. Guys were friendly, dress code as casual as the DC Office ... and plenty of work ... they were wondering if I could start today to which I diplomatically declined ...

It's GREAT to be back home. Damn!! Kwanza am starting my Masters @ USIU in September. Hakuna kucheka na mtu . Basically stato can kiss my black ass ... sioni nikirudi ...

Err ... as for NANDO'S UPSTAIRS ... it went gr8 ... really gr8 ...

These characters:

Mishale, Bants, Modo, Milo, Komi,Jade Kitten, Kirima, Methu, Nick, and anyone else am 4getting. Am hoping 2 meet you all soonest ...

I was thinking I was gonna take my time, stay with Mami for like a month before I look for a place, lakini she'll be lucky if I maliza a WEEK @ home. 6AM ananiamsha nifanye? Alafu ikifika 8 sijamcall ati nampatia stress ... I need OUT ... lol ... saidieni jameni ... any recomendations welcome. Place has 2 be secure, accessible. Price, isipite 35k a month.

Sweetie twende ...

How I met my Babe ...

2007-07-31T07:18:00.001-04:00

Where: Nandos Moi Avenue upstairs ...

Raison d'être ...

2007-07-24T21:12:00.000-04:00

Have you ever wondered what your reason for being in this world was? Have you ever felt yourself willing to "do good" but neither knew what "good" was nor how to "do" this good? Are you concerned about the systemic problems that affect our dear country? If so, what are you considering? Unado nini kusaidia?

Can we get to a point where we are responsible Kenyans who care DEEPLY and are passionate about our country? Can we influence and encourage each other to think outside the self?

If you are not bored already with my makelelez ... I have a little story 4 you.

The Story ...

“Mzungu is here, mzungu is here!” screamed my little brother. I have never determined if his childish exuberance was occasioned by interacting with the only white person he had ever seen or from eagerness at the impending candy that the priest always brought him. Nonetheless, I shared in none of his excitement. I was incredulous that the priest had chosen Christmas day - the most important holiday - to deliver his usual “repent or perish” sermons at our house. I would have preferred to perish on that day. I was in for a shock ...

Then something strange happened. Usually, the whole family would sit attentively as the priest pleaded for our souls. On this day however, my mother condemned my younger siblings to their bedroomswith one dismissive motion and with a surreptitious smile at the priest, also disappeared, leaving me with the priest - Mano -a- Mano. I immediately smelled a rat. “Joshua, your generation is in danger of becoming extinct,” opened the priest. "Kae ena devo umuthi," I wondered to myself. I expected him, as was his custom, to delve into the holy book to support his thesis but he continued, as if substantiating my silent assessment “If you youngsters keep having premarital sex at this rate, Kenya’s future is bleak. This HIV will finish all of you …”

I was perspiring from all pores by this time. Sex and HIV? They were taboo. Seldom did any of them get a mention in everyday conversation yet he had the temerity to combine both in one sentence. Oblivious of my embarrassment, he kept talking sex, then HIV, and then more sex. I had to endure a whole hour of his rebukes without the usual fortifying therapy of a cup of coffee. And when the coffee finally came, it came only to the priest ...

As if in cahoots with the priest, the Kenyan President was at it with HIV-AIDS in his address to the nation the same evening. He announced that the government was going to import millions of condoms to be distributed freely, to stem the high rate of infection. Ironically, he then beseeched, in the same breath, all Kenyans to abstain from sex for one year! Now let’s face it. Kenyans will not abstain for one year. They will not even abstain for a month. In fact, for some people, one day would be one day too many!

The events of that day are still as vivid as a nightmare to me. Many years have passed but the prophecy in the priest's ominous warning on that day remains true. In my village alone, I have seen adults atrophy to bare bones. I have witnessed close friends orphaned on account of the disease. I have attended funerals in which everyone knew the cause of death, yet theofficial eulogy read the cause of death as Tuberculosis, Pneumonia, and even Kaposi’s sarcoma because of the stigma attached to HIV-AIDS. I look forward to a day when that shall be no more.

Most importantly, the priest's makelelez on that day remains more influential than any sermon he ever delivered. I am acutely aware of the responsibility on my shoulders. I wish we all were. I aspire to be an example to the little kids in my village and in my country, on the essence of responsibility and compassion. That done, I am sure I will meet my maker a happy man, devoid of regrets, and with a legacy. This is my ambition, and it is independent of how much money or success I achieve.

Whereas problems in society remain a vexation to my soul, I remain confident that our generation can, and will overcome. Let's embrace the weight of this responsibility. Pass on the baton. It is our time to shine. Bring it on ...

ps: The story, and the characters in it are fictional. Any resemblance to characters in real life is unintended and regretted.

Dem tags again !!

2007-07-23T22:30:00.000-04:00

I was tagged informally by Irena and officially by kipepeo.

RULES:

1)WE HAVE TO POST THESE RULES BEFORE WE GIVE YOU THE FACTS.

2)PLAYERS START WITH 8 RANDOM FACTS/HABITS ABOUT THEMSELVES.

3)PEOPLE WHO ARE TAGGED NEED TO WRITE THEIR OWN BLOG AND THEIR 8 THINGS AND POST THESE.

4) AT THE END OF YOUR BLOG POST, YOU NEED TO CHOOSE 8 PEOPLE TO GET TAGGED AND LIST THEIR NAMES (Scared yet…..you better be!)

5)DON’T FORGET TO LEAVE THEM A COMMENT TELLING THEM THEY ARE TAGGED, AND TO READ YOUR BLOG

Since I have already done a tag in the past, I won't repeat the same.Instead, I'll list 4 positive qualities about me and 4 things that I am looking 4ward to improving upon in the coming days:

+ ve

i) Passionate
ii) Ambitious
iii) Smart
iv) Generous

Areas to work on ...

i) Humility ...
ii)Temperament ...
iii) Tolerance ...
iv) Procrastination ...

Tagged:

3N

The Letter of My Life ... 7 Years Later

2007-07-18T20:26:00.000-04:00

I rarely write letters. I wrote and mailed my very first letter in January of 1992. I was in std 4. A week before, my parents had dumped me @ MGPS to begin life as a boarder, at the timid age of 9. The big boys @ MGPS had just done what big boys @ MGPS do to small monos; take their food from home, take their pocket money, and practice WWF moves on them . To this date, I have never crafted another letter to my parents, and I mean NEVER, and I love them to bits ...

This post is about a letter I wrote in October 2000. I was preparing for the KCSE. I it to GOD. Ndio, sir God - the one above. I have always carried it with me whenever I change locations. In a few weeks, this letter, in as bad a shape as the original paper is, I will be framing this letter and hanging it in my crib. It has become the letter of my life, a wondrous testament to the blessings God has bestowed in my life thus far, and more importantly, a constant reminder of the great blessings that await me going forward with my life.

I am copying this letter, word for word as I wrote it back in 2-thao. I have witnessed a great blessing from God the last couple of weeks. As such, the sole intent of reprinting this letter is to praise God for his providence, and to seek his strength going forward in the new path that he has charted for me.

God Help Me To Succeed (October, 2000)

God help me to succeed
To be of good courage
To believe in myself
To be hardworking, devoted and dedicated

God help me to succeed
To double my efforts
To know that you
Are on my side

God help me to succeed
To know that the issue
Is not succeeding:
But how well

God help me to succeed
To know that I can make it
And to know that you
Shall not forsake me

God help me to succeed
Not to wane in my confidence
Not to bring to disappointment
I, others and you.

I want an A.

PS:

Thank you God for your goodness.

Happy Hour Tales ...

2007-07-18T10:04:00.000-04:00

Jana, the Finance team at jobo had a happy hour here. I always enjoy drunken vibes with my work colleagues. I was acquainted to a combo of Hypnotic-Hennessey; I gotsa sample me some more of that. Given that I just got to jobo and mkubwa bado hajafika (am taking bets on severity of the Hangi …kando), wacha I recount jana’s shenanigans …

“That Truth Come Out When You Drunk”:

What is it about junguz and kissing ass to Africans? Am not talking about the mjolobo angle …
So this chick, after downing kadhaa glasses of red-wine ensconced herself between me and anaa jungu pal who spent 2 years in Meru working with Peace Corps. So me and me mate were raruaing storoz about Nai, helping dude praco his drunken Swa … halafu chick interrupts;

“I’d love to go 2 Africa.” [Wrong Start Bitch, we are talking about Kenya here …]

[Makes it even worse]

“Since I was young, I’ve always wanted to be a primatologist so I could study gorillas and monkeys in Africa …”

[wuuusaaa, wuuuuusaaa …. ]

Surely, is there a better way to ruin a conversation? Yaani chick grabs stereotype hugs it tight na haezi achilia. I was narrating this to a pal and he raised a very interesting point. Granted that she wanted to study monkeys … kwani Africa is the only place with nuguz? There are primatologists who have never left America!! Hmmm …!! Wonder where chick’s dream got derailed!! I mean Finance is a far cry from a monkey ….

“Which Beer”

We had two guys from our Cameroon office that had just arrived in the States for training. Si we pelekad them happy hour, you know, show ‘em how we do.
So what beer do the jamaas want? They are looking at the happy hour beers; Heineken, Amstel Lights, Miller Lite, Corona ….
Then my buddy says “ since you guys are in America, you should drink American Beer” …
I warned them ( like brotha 2 brotha) that they were about to make a colossal mistake …. Lakini hawakunini? Hawakuskia ….
“Bring me a that … miller …”

First sip …

“This is better than all the beers” proclaims Cameroonian 1 ….then we proceed to bambua why Samuel Eto’o wasn’t voted African Player of the year … men and football … pure bliss ….

But I knew dude was kissing ass to his American hosts …ama ilikuwa beginners luck?

Kadhaa beers later , after tongue has been loosened, waitress comes for the next rau of orders … jamaa volunteers:

“Bring me 2 Heinekens!” …. Nicheke ama nisicheke … fcuk it … am rarukaing ….

“The Bill”

A $ 300 or thereabouts tab between 7 people for a Tuesday happy hour is rather innocuous, but can potentially harm one’s wallet if made a habit. But big-ups to the boss. He really demonstrated with words how employee motivation should be done. That means I can afford one more happier hour before the weekend comes … hmmm … where?

Ps: Is it just me or is this week taking like a month to get done?

The Shaftage ...

2007-07-16T07:48:00.000-04:00

We interrupt the Shaft to bring you this shaftage ...

In footballing terms, Brazil is to Argentina what Methu is to Tato. When them boys get on the field, it's SBJ galore, as in shaftage bila jokes. Tato bend over ...

Anyway on my way to watch the Copa America final , I was exchanging texts about the looming match with a high school buddy in California. Here is the transcript:

JM: Brazil wins 2 - 1. This is prophecy

C : 3 - 0 argentina. Mark my words.

jm: lool. I have better odds 4 a 3-some!!

C: Wow! Your odds must be pretty dann good, coz arg will kill brazil. U will need some love after we deal with bra.

JM: May the carnage begin ...

After the game ...

Brazil 3 - Argentina 0.

JM: Call it reverse psychology ... hmmm ... mkanyango !!

C: Looks like u won't be having that 3-some ...

JM: lol, yeah unfortunately not ...

Moral of the story: Tato ... bend over ... see analogy above.

ps: Non-football fans, umieni!! I'll be back with the shaft...

Part 2 - Prelude to the Action ...

2007-07-12T13:13:00.000-04:00

Mama Gertrude's Lessons:

Before we see which BT rider steps out first, it is perhaps instructive to understand what these KBW chicks were all about. What do we mean they all graduated sumna cumme laude? What did this portend for the BT-riders? What skills and lessons did these mamaz bring to the table? Hereby, we expose for the first time some long-held secrets from Mama Gertrude's courses that were presented to us by one of our undercover reporters ...

LESSON 1:

"May the Force be in You"

According to Mama Gertrude, sexual satisfaction was, contrary to popular belief, quantifiable. How? She unleashed a formula in one of the most famous lectures ever delivered @ the Gertrude school :

P = M1 * D^2 / M2

P = pleasure
M1 = mass of male subject ...
M2 = mass of female subject ...
D = separation distance before contact …

key assumptions:

i) male subject in question is on top ... see numerator :)
ii) access is STRICTLY horizontal

As such, for maximum pleasure, the aim is to maximize the numerator and minimize the denominator, implying that:

The bigger the guy, the more the pleasure ... threshold mass set @ MAX twice mama's mass ...
The guy should "fall in" from as far as possible without compromising accuracy, and to the extent that mama's flexibility will allow. Distance d, is best maximized without compromising accuracy if and only if mamaz knees are acquainted with her shoulders ...
The smaller the mama, the more pleasurable the act. Important caveat: Mama Gertrude warned that threshold weight for mama seemed to be roughly 100 pounds, below which the formula couldn't be applied with reasonable certainty ....

LESSON 2:

"Mojo ya Mjolobo"

Mama Gertrude's second lesson was titled "Positional Awareness". There in, she prescribed that:

"It is important that one pays attention to the specification combinations for the key and lock so that acceptable tolerances are considered and adequate safety factors applied ..." The key/lock ratios is popularly known as the M/S ratio, i.e, the mjolobo : slit ratio

Consequently, the mamaz were advised to be meticulous about the following factors:

temperature generated (proxy for friction)
key length and thickness
slit size
buoyancy .... (proxy for lubrication factor)

LESSON 3

"Poetry in Motion"

This was a lesson in self-confidence. Mamaz had to recite the same verses, two times every day; before lunch and before calling it a day - with a cup of water to clear the throats and make it sound as awesome as it should have:

Freak I am ...
Stick I’ll break ...
Streak I’ll break ... (for fake BT-riders secretly playing away games)

The faster it falls, the harder it hits ...
The harder it hits, the further it bends ...
The further it bends, the likelier it breaks …

3N had no idea how skilled these mamaz were as he commanded the door to be open. He is about to be introduced to match his knowledge from Baba Gertrude's self-pleasing DVD with the creme de la creme of KBW. Atatoboa kweli?

And the other BT-riders? Will they want to venture after seeing 3N's fate ?

We'll see ...

The Bilaz Train Comes to KBW ...

2007-07-01T21:02:00.000-04:00

PART 1: THE BILAZ TRAIN EXPOSED

Disclaimer:

This is the Story of the Bilaz Train (hereafter BT). More aptly, this is an inside scoop on the BT from a passenger's perspective. Thanks to the infinite mercies of a certain guest blogger and yours truly, we offer telling secrets, quietly observed and recorded whilst riding on the BT, as it snaked it's way towards the KBW station. All characters in this revelation are fictional. Any resemblance to characters that you may or may not know is unintended, and thus the authors do not regret in advance ...

Introduction:

Self-Loving:
A secret past time activity on the BT, an essential survival tactic. Akin to how Milo discovered milo at the tender(well not so tender) age of 11. The motto on the BT was simple; love thyself as thou would like to be loved.

The adherence to this motto on the BT was almost religious; so much so that it was brazenly reflected in the nomenclature of the crew and passengers of this BT in all sorts and manners of phallic representations:

Boyflani: had been quoted on SleezeNews saying "I have found true love within myself. It's safe, cheaper and no pressure to perform." He had further quoted Vandorss " If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with!" Who could argue with that, atleast he was not in denial like the others

Aco: claimed to be excercising ... he was lifting a weight alright

Bantuts was keeping KIKWETU KIKWAKE...na venye ye hujiswaga, hujimanga, hujitwok, hujitandika.

EGM- and his long shooting zoom in "lens"

Lijiwe with his even smaller lens

Aegeus and his so called Castle.

Spidey; and his so called battle within.

Modo Athi: and his ngothaless nutty dreadlock who was kicked out of the Mungiki for beheading thyself.

Archer: ati a quiver full of arrows? Or a quivering quiver full of arrows?

Kirima: loosely translated into making a mountain out of a mole hill!

Stackofstiffy's....need I explain ...?

The Train Itself ...

There was a palpable silence as the Bilas Train rumbled into the KBW station. It was a perfect Spring evening and the KBW women outside looked dazzling, nay, coruscating. Hands that were hitherto plucking and strumming on an assortment of individually customized instruments during the journey to the KBW Station shot up to the mouth in amazement.

While the BT had been journeying towards destination KBW, there were many passengers who had prophesed abstinence ... impotence ... ignorance. Their moment of reckoning was nigh. How would they react? Who was going to steal a move on the others? Who would jump off into the inviting KBW festival of darts?

It was Mishale who had proposed the hymn. He was seconded by EGM and "thirded" by Mwangi because these latter two also knew the hymn. It was from Songs of Praises. The explicit intention was to extol the KBW sights and sounds that now graced them to Were, the great creator. But Mishale had secret perverted fantasies that he needed verbalized. He rendered the bass thus and was joined by his unsuspecting mates;

We plough the fields and scatter

The good seeeed* on the laaaaand* * = stress points ...

But it is fed and waaaatered* ....

By God's almighty hand ...

This harmonic rendition catalyzed a heightened testosterone level on the BT...

"Ptuh, ptuh," spat Aco. "Fuck!" cringed 3N as he also wiped his mouth. They had forgotten to wipe off the thick, creamy fluid that had accidentally oozed onto their hands - a byproduct of the immensely pleasing, albeit overdone strumming. Kip on the other hand was too busy with his other hand singing Whitney's "..there comes a point when we exhale yeah yeah...SAY! Kip! Kip! Kip! Keep it Kip!" Mwangi's moaning glory was also interrupted before the proverbial cock crowed...

Kumbe the stories these KBW mamas over-blogged about were true!! The windows on the BT were now crowded; wide, eager stares. Alert instruments. The KBW field had no bushes. The field was not only fertile, but looked prime to be unearthed, explored, and discovered by bull-driven ploughs. The tilling and ploughing imagery was driving guys nuts. Could anyone on the BT handle these fields? Could their hand-held jembes penetrate this seasoned loam soil? Outside lay Soddom and Gomorrah and inside the train were anatomies which had turned into pillars of salts.

Thank the heavens that the BT arrived at KBW just in time!!

This excess testosterone might have otherwise induced some interesting behaviour on the train. Even Milo would have started to look pretty; causing Bomseh to chant repeatedly "Me I Love Milo Regardless." Couch Tato, who once overheard Jiwe whispering to Aegeus "I wish I knew how to quit you!" would have been in no position to judge Jiwe, for tato would himself have had a weak moment with Spidey. Heck, even 3N might have had an urge to put his 3N in BoyflaNNNi. Mwangi was almost getting ready to assume Position Impossible with Bants.

Thank God for Kirima, whose able hands at the "wheel" got the BT station at KBW, before these apocalyptic engagements could unfold ...

Meanwhile, outside the BT ... in the KBW Station ...

The mamas were ready. They had the milk shake, and they were in the yard. Which boys were going to alight first? The mamas flaunted their expensively assembled and packaged paraphernalia. They were READY. They were qualified too!! To be a resident of KBW, the uncompromising prerequisite was a summa cume laude from Mama Gertrude's course. They proudly waved their diplomas in the air ...and now some wanted to cum loudly ...

Ova to the Train ...

Was Sodom and Gomorrah going to be reenacted? Would the guys on the BT acquiesce?

Who had the nastiest, saltiest, "moistest" balls to open the BT door and step into such intimidation?

"Open the damn door!!" requested, no, boomed a voice from the back of the train. EVERY head performed a 180-degree alteration. Who/what was that? Surely no mortal would dare stick his jembe first on these seasoned soils ....

TO BE CONTINUED ....

A shit post ...

2007-06-27T10:41:00.000-04:00

A gift to remember ...

Jack and Jones lived down the hall from me. They were white. These two characters were notorious. Jack, for his smarts - how did one get so high, so often and yet was always on Dean’s list after every semester? Jones on the other hand was a walking oxymoron … rumor was that his endowment fund was generously stocked. That his microphone was always a handful for any gal on campus to talk to … I never played baseball so I never had the opportunity to substantiate the rumor …

It was Jones’ birthday. He received a note from the postman, bright and early, before his first class. He was looking 4ward to plenty of gifts and loving from his friends.

“You have a package at the post office. Please present this card at the window for pick-up.”

The campus mail-boxes were tiny. Anything not letter-sized could not fit. One had to go during office hours to collect larger parcels from storage. After his morning class, he ran over to the posta, brain teeming with ideas as to the origins and contents of the package. Maybe it was his parents. Better yet, presents from several of his well “served” one night standees? He wasn’t sure, but he had a good feeling about this …

He raced back into his room in record time, visibly excited. Scissors out, rip the carton open. Alas, it was a carton in a carton. Scissors again, mutilate this other carton and behold; a gem of a gift, in all its majesty lay before his perplexed eyes …

In a transparent plastic bag, inside that second carton, lay the driest, longest and now smelliest piece of shit that he had ever laid his eyes on. Attached next to it was a simple note, written in caps, and in red:

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY”

JACK.

Alienda posta kuget shonde !!

He needed it like a third armpit. He started plotting his revenge ...

Lost in Translation - 2

2007-06-25T18:27:00.000-04:00

Finally … getting into the reading …

P: Katika kitabu cha Warumi ...
T: In the book of (pause) … In the bible (muffled laughter ensues …)

P: (showing remarkable patience and understanding) In the book of Romans …
T: In the book of Romans (repeats exactly what Pastor said, nobody knows why …) ..

P: Theinie wa ibuku ria Aroma, murango wa ikumi na imwe na kamuhari ka mirongo itatu na ithatu …
T: In the book of Romans … (another pause) … part...eeh …

P: Chapter 11 verse 33
T: Chapter 11 verse 33 (haiya … niaremirwo ni thabari!!)

P: (finally running out of patience … calling out another pastor to help out, surely two pastors cannot go wrong …)
Pastor Njuguna, wee niwui Gikuyu?
T: (presiding over his own firing …) Pastor Njuguna, do you happen to know Kikuyu?

(The said pastor Njuguna rises and starts walking towards the pulpit …)

P: (Delivering the coup de grace on translator 1) Uka uteithie muru wa ithe witu hanini haha …
T: (You won’t believe this …) Come and help our brother (as in himself) a ritlle bit …

(Suppressed laughter, but some cannot hold it, Mwangi included) … Hence forthwith, pastor Njuguna will be Translator 2, or T2.

His first agenda was to read out the said Warumi 11:33 – 36:

T2: (Reading, confidently …):

33Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and[a] knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! 34"Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?"[b] 35"Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him?"[c] 36For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen.

P: Andu a thi nimeciragia nioge muno munooooo … (demonstrating the contrary, proving vs 33-34, I suppose)
T2: Human beings think they are fery clever …

P: Nginya mahotete guthodeka nyamu itagwo “shandow” …
T2: (Clearly perplexed …): To the point they have been able to make …errr … that vessel he just mentioned ….

Congregation lol vibaiyaaaa … Mwangi lia machozi ni kicheko …

P: Mathodeke “shandow” irahota guthie nginya kwa mweri!!
T2: (An aha! Moment … on mention of the moon): Humans have managed to make a shuttle that can ferry them upto the moon …

P: No andu ti ogi uguo meciragia …
T2: But humans are not as clever as they would like to think …

P: Tondu korwo ni ogi uguo ri …
T2: If they were that clever …

P: Nimwonire riria “shandow” yahiaga, ikigoa kuma matuini?
T2: Did you see the shuttle burning, as it fell from the sky?

P: Korwo andu niogi munoooo ri, ka matagithondeka “shandow” ingi, iri na ihenya gukira iyo …
T2: If humans are so clever, why can’t they make another shuttle, faster than that one …

P: Nigetha “shandow” yahura thimu yuge ni irahia ri, matume “shandow” iria ina ihenya, yambate ikinyire iyo, ina miberethi ya mae, imihorie itige kuhia !!
T2: So that if the burning shuttle makes a call, to say it is burning, they can send the faster shuttle, complete with sprinklers to go and extinguish the fire …

True of God ... (Quintessence '07)
Mayangai … [several members of the congregation stream out quietly, alarmed, perhaps even embarrassed by the turn of events …]

P: Mundu wooothe uciaritwo ni mutumia …
T2: Every person that is born of a woman …(haiya ii, kwani siku hizi birth is being outsourced …)

P: (switching to Kingoso for emphasis …) Get me well into that point …
T2: (trying his best, vividly bamboozled …): Pris understand my point very well …

P: No muhaka amenye indo ciothe ciumaga kuri Ngai; chuma ciothe, mabati, indo ciothe, ciumaga kuri teriini wa Ngai …
T2: Every person born of a woman must understand that all things come from God; all metals, (ignores iron sheets) , come from the soil, which belongs to God almighty

P: (Demonstrating the potential of the wrath of God) Na kwahota kugia na ruhuho rututhirire
T2: (doing his best) And there might be a wind and then …err … we won’t even undastad.

MORAL OF SERMON AS UNDERSTOOD BY JM:

All wisdom, all things; material or otherwise belong to and come from God. We should not be obsessed with the search for wealth while on earth …

***Hmmm .... (Or was it)***

Lost in Translation

2007-06-24T21:13:00.000-04:00

The glory of the lorda ...

Where: Church.

When: Saturday @ approximately 2pm EST

What: Sermon

Why: Memorial service for a gentleman. Words like “gentleman” should be earned, not dished as freebies. This man, judging from the consistency of accolades, deserves it. May his soul rest in eternal peace.

Mood: Sombre but punctuated by occasional kwotable translation gaffes …

Disclaimer: From here on, this is not JM @ work. The pastor has taken over my blog. Oh, and the reader is advised to be liberal with the use of “r” and “l” that is, you may intershange them at will …

P will be pastor.

T will be translator.

P: Mwathani agocwo

T: Praise the Rod!!

Congregation: (largely ignores but one or 2 squeaky voices …): Ameniiiiiiiiii ….

P: Bwana asifiwe (not convinced, switching lingua …)

T: Praise the Lond!!

Crowd ignores again …

P: (visibly agitated): Caitani niagucitie ngoro cianyu naagacioha …

T: The devil has pulled your hearts …. (processing info ...) and tied them …

P: Korwo ni Kibaki wi haha auge “Harambee” … (confusing Emilio with Jomo K)

K: If Kibaki was here and said “Harambee” …

P: Onawe cucu nowanirire uge “Harambee”

T: Even the grandmothers in here would have responded …

P: I like preaching in my favarite ranguage – Kiswahili

T: (Translates into necessary Kisapere …)

P: Because then the “hory split “ and I interact propery …

T: Nyendete kuhunjia na githweri … (missing part of translation)

THEME REVEALED …

P: Indo ciothe ni cia Ngai

T: All things berong to God …

P: Ugi wothe, wara wothe, ni wa Ngai

T: All the Knowredge, arr the wisdom comes fron Gond

P: Nimuramenya uria murathimetwo? Nginya muriaga thabibu tare githeri?

T: You have been very blessed by the almighty …

(clearly 4getting what thabibus are …)

(You have been blessed, you partake of grapes/raisins like they are murram/githeri) …..

TBC …

To be continued ….

Lip licker ...

2007-06-21T10:06:00.000-04:00

I saw someone on Anderson Cooper last night:

Ha …
Han …
Hanj …
Ha Njeri …
Ha Njeri na …
Ha Njeri na Jollity
Angelina Jolie!!

My God!! And she was biting her lips all through the interview!! Even AC was getting derailed, na ni mtu wa mathuthaz (so I hear) ... This chick's strutting the best set of lips ever to grace television!! I need me some jollity lips ...

Ngaiiiiiiiii babaaaaaaa ....

2007-06-19T15:36:00.000-04:00

Basic Rule of Thumb ...

When a dark shaped object whizzes across the room, at three times ten to the power eight metres per second you know you are fucked …
When the said object waits until you are just about to sleep, to do the said whizzing, you know you are nocturnally fucked …
Now, when your roommate beholds the said whizzing, lets out a sharp cry “Ngaiiiiiiiii babaaaaaa …." ad infinitum not only is the fucking nocturnal, but it is likely to be without the lubricant of your choice … excrutiating … tremendous enthalpy of combustion …

But I know you muthafuckas are not getting the point:

What I am kindly trying to say is this:

There is a fucking rat in the house.

And I am fucking scared to go home tonight. Not after how fast that little fuck was moving last night. Jeeezus, and Mary and Joseph !! What the fuck am I gonna do?

Kirima [ Insert Appropriate Phobia here]

The worrying thing is that the little-fucka was littlish [read youngish] …

This portends a MAJOR problem:

What if the said little-fucka was SEXILED* ….

As in would not be allowed to watch the big-dick fucka doing his thang to populate the house with similarly fast little fuckas?*

In fact, @ the speed @ which that little-fucka flashed before our mersmerized selves, I would not be surprised if big-dick (noun) caught little-fucka jerking off to his big-dick (adjective) manenos and chased him off !!

If that be the case, if big-dick be in the house doing his thing, now I am eternally fucked …

What’s a fucking rat’s gestation period?

(Ooozing manly machismo ... )

I am a mammal of higher order … I will not allow big-dick to hold me in thrall … ama show him a swinger (mass noun) …

I reckon maybe it’s becoz it’s summer time that little-fucka and his clan found their way to the crib … so before I left house in the morning, I decided to modify the “climate in the house” … wekad maximum cooling ….

In the hope that @ best:

a) The cold will shrivel big-dick and induce temporary erectile dysfunction before I flush the clan out tonight …
b) Lil-fucka’s -mama will catch a “rat-cold” that will result in loss of “heat” delaying/ eliminating/ negating big-dick’s multiplication instincts …

In the absence of success:

I am buying “Mummification for Dummies” on my way home …

Someone Special ...

2007-06-17T20:36:00.000-04:00

A Tingling Sensation ...

In the hems of my mind ...

A gem of a find ...

A dame so kind ...

Successively ... each day .... my guard fractured ...nay ... dismembered

Obsessively ... in every way ... my heart captured ... nay .... paragacha

If these shapely legs be thine,

be mine ...

am in a hook like a crook ... !!

Finally ...

2007-06-15T11:23:00.000-04:00

fabuloso profondamente!!

jeez am soo glad ...

I just took my first crap since Sunday night - and it's now Friday. I thought I was sick or sam' serious like that ... unadulterated liberty!

Najivu ... oops ... Nakubaff Nikiwa Mkenya ...

2007-06-13T21:15:00.000-04:00

beyond preposterous ...

How is this shit possible?
How is it logical?

How does one with a Kenyan Flag in the house have the temerity to tell Me:

"Wee, do not speak Kiswahili in the office!"
"You will get fired!"
"It is very unprofessional"
"That's why I respond in English everytime you speak Kiswahili to me!!"

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

Remember when we were kids and used to be told things like:

If you swallow a seed when eating an orange, a tree will start growing in tour tumbo ...

or

Ukimeza Bigi-G ati it will wrap up your intestines and keep you from crapping ...

or even worse:

Ati ukikumia ile minyoo ina manyoya you'll die!!

That is how much my intelligence was insulted, nay, assaulted @ the office leo, tena by a fellow Kenyan!!

Bear in mind:

The French people in the office speak French ...
The Spanish peeps speak Spanish ...
The Foundation's mission is centered in Africa (even have an office in all 3 East African Countries!!)

etc.

Does this person believe Kiswahili to be an inferior language?
An inferiority complex?
Undue "respect" / fear for Wazungus?
An acute case of boot-licking and tail-wagging?

I subscribe to none of that stuff. I wish someone would as much as hint @ the office that they have beef with me speaking Kiswahili!!

I would demonstrate to them that:

"Nametameta nikiwa Mkenya"

Viva Kiswahili - I'll never let you down!!

Home Sweet Home ....

2007-06-12T17:19:00.001-04:00

Dumpling Parabolas ...

2007-06-10T19:06:00.000-04:00

eeewwww ... (shauri yako)

Tuliwanga wapi ? (Bants, '07)

Hii risto hata sijui nieleze aje bila kuudhi wasee, specially washee ... na najua mii ni pathetic sana na hii lugha ... munisamehe ...

Tuko na mabeste kwa keja Sato. Grrrhh .. prrrrrr .... shweee .... ni minyooo kuleta nuksi. Wasee wana UBAO. Tumbo zinaimba kwaya na rhythm lakini bila melody. Haya, mpango uchorwe. Tufike joint ingine hapo ya beste anaitwa Kamau, ati tufyeke nyam chom ... lakini place si ni mbali kiasi ...

Ndio sisi tumepitia anaa Jamaican joint on the way, ati ka-snack angalau minyoo ikimye on our 45 minute drive. Haiyaa, ndio mimi nimeitisha nini? Mild beef patty na dumpling mbili ... na kajuo hapo hivo ... kuingia kwa gari, dakika mbili xact nishararua nini - ka-snack ka mine. Haya ... msisahau kuraruka ...

SIjawai manga dumpling tamu hivo. Kumbe utamu ni bacteria zimejaa!! Haiyaa!! Dumpling ni faraja, dump ndio dhiki ... sii mimi ni wahenga ...Kufika tu hivi kwa Kamau, tumbo anzia kijana, wacha nichunwe walahi!! Lakini kuna shida moja ...

Kwa Kamau kuna nini? Choo uno - chafu kuliko toii zingine za citi-kanju NAi. Ushaienda joint yenye hata kuingia bafu kunyora ni shida? Nashangaa, nikichill one more minute ni ivo ... it is definitely raining kaa vile naskia nairobi kumenyesha this weekend.

Desperate times zinaitisha nini - desperate measures. Kuna given moja. Dumpling haziwezi kaa kwa tumbo. So si ilibidi nidecide kaa nataka steady state ya rasa iwe kwa ngotha ama kwa hiyo bafu ... poleni ... hapa ndio tunaingia TMI ... lakini shida yenu, risto iendelee x-rated ...

Ndio mimi nimekaza rasa ni kaa iko na vice. Hakuna kitu ime-attain escape velocity by now. Dumpling bado ziko ndani lakini zinaknock na mikono zote mbee, zii , zinasukuma mlango. I figure I have a max of 30 seconds ku-make executive decision: kwa ngotha au kwa bafu?

Shiiiiiiieeet!! ... hiyo iliwa no-brainer. Lakini siezi ketia hiyo seat. Unaeza toka hapo na rasa kaa tatu ni microorganisms ... eeeewww ... aiyaeee ... bahati zile choo za kijiji zinanijua ... zenye lazima ubebe compass na protractor - si kupima angle yenye utaposition rasa shonde isihate shimo ... choo yetu huko shagz huniambia "Welcome Back Mwangi" hata nikipotea miaka kaa tatu ... halafu inaniwai front page ya the latest STANDARD gazeti ... na si ati nisome ...

Lakini tuko kwa Kamau. Unaweza toa mzeiya kwa kitongoji lakini kitongoji huwezi toa kwa mzeiya. Sindio I borrowed from dem old days. Nilikuwa kwanza nafikiria the best strategy ni kupanda hiyo seat lakini hiyo ukiweka more than 15o pounds si ni hivo ... so obvious hiyo si option ... nilimeditate kiplani hivi hivi, nikaimagine ni shimo ya toii ya shagz, ingawa bwaku kidogo, so obviously angles inabidi adjustment ... mchoro karibu uli-work to perfection, but not quite.

Sitaki kusema mambo mobb juu kuna masuspect wanaeza soma na walikuwa maskan ... hihii, lakini ki-cryptic mdogo mdogo, mii nilicome kugundua principle ya Galileo - yule mItaliani si mwingine. Situation iliwanga hivi baada ya steady state:

"The motion that acts vertically on an object (s) is the force of gravity, and this pulls an object towards the earth at 9.8 meters per second. But while gravity is pulling the object down, the projectile is also moving forward, horizontally at the same time. And this horizontal motion is uniform and constant according to Galileo's principle of inertia."

Nilitoka huko masaaaa!! Kwa bar, leta bia, leta shoto , sahau ile damage umefanya. Saa mi najiambia si GOLF ati lazima kila shimo nawai HOLE-IN-ONE ... Si kupenda kwangu lakini. Ni kuraruka manyu manyu. Shetani ashindwe!! Lakini nimepona sasa.

Addendum:

On second thought - sitaki ku-burn!!

BLOGOHANJAMZ: ACCOMODATING UNCONVENTIONAL PARADIGMS ...

2007-06-05T22:32:00.000-04:00

Some More Truths ...

What is love?
Is there a universal definition?
What does it mean to be "in love" ?

Imagine all KBWers were secretly asked to define love, sans the aid of a dictionary/bible. What is the probability that they would all define love as the same thing? In all likelihood, there would be individual discrepancies. I shall use this backdrop to answer in the AFFIRMATIVE a question that was posed by Klara:

"Is it possible to Love someone u have never physically met? Lately been feelin closer to this guy n yet we havent met..."

Before I explain why my answer is an EMPHATIC YES, I suspect one thing:

Klara is NOT ALONE. There are people on this very KBW who "feel each other", who profess love for each other, but keep it on the down low because frankly: It is NYOB !! It is upon the two parties to reveal or not to ...

Let's face it; blogosphere is also an arena of life where love can be fostered. Now, back to the question I posed earlier on. If you agree that different peeps would define love in different ways, then it goes without saying that we cannot legitimately judge/criticize/castigate any one who claims to have fallen in love with a fellow blogger. They are simply practicing love the way they understand it!!

The same way a dream has no limits, so is the realm of love. Chochote chaweza kufanyika. People have been known to meet in all sorts of ways and manner. Infatuation can be with someone seated next 2 you in the room. Same thing with obsession. It's a world of relativity. I challenge anyone to tell me a SPECIFIC characteristic of THIS KIND OF LOVE that automatically lends it to FAILURE. It will be TRIVIAL to show how most, if not all of these characteristics are not unique to "BLOGOPHILIA". Ball is in your court folks ... am so spoiling for an argument:

woof!! woof!!

To each his/her own. Rather than negativity and suspicion and pessimism, why not SUPPORT and ENCOURAGE budding lovers?

Ok, let the cynics get out of dem closets .... come on out ...

ps: In case y'all wonder why mwangi is so vehemently arguing in favour of love by any means, let me save you the trouble. I am IN LOVE with a blogger - and yes - SHE KNOWS IT and yes - SHE LOVES ME TOO. And yes, am brutal with my honesty like that - kiroho safi.

Calling ALL Sharpshooters!!

2007-05-31T14:38:00.000-04:00

Yaani, I got off the bus to a smile from the UGLIEST face I have ever seen. I mean, when this idiot goes to hell (bcoz he is ...) shetani atamwona aokoke!! Contrary to popular opinion, I am a rather confident fellow. If you gaze at me, best believe you'll drop your gaze first ...

But this damn fool almost knocked the stuffings out of me. The unwritten code of human interactions is that when someone (even a stranger) smiles at you, it generally denotes a "lack of beef with me." But some people are ANIMALS ...

UGLY FACE smiles @ me and before I move past him, he says out loud to me:

"Hey Babe!!"

I freeze in my tracks, look at the muthafucka. Shait, he's too damn big. I shake my head and sullenly trot home ...

Archer!! Lend me a few mishales I go ancestral on AN IDIOOOOT !!

The Evolution of African Diabz (2)

2007-05-30T09:20:00.000-04:00

Given: Species evolve

Given: The species that are best adapted to their environment survive …

Given: The species that survive pass on their desirable traits to subsequent generations

Unclear: Why Do African Mamaz Have Bigger Diabz?

FALSE THEORY:

Big hips to accommodate child birth. Errr, kwani chim-chongs don’t give birth? Have you seen how small some of them are?

POSSIBLE EXPLANATION:

The main reason African mamaz have bigger diabz is very simple really …

“We Had No Chairs”

In the harsh terrain, one either looked for the smoothest stone (not always easy coz of wild animals) or was endowed with a survival mechanism … This latter trait was more expedient in the long run.

Over thousands of years, this trait was passed on … hence the diabzful African woman today who I must add:

is a species tofauti from wale wengine !!

Matako Yangu ...

2007-05-29T21:12:00.000-04:00

Matako Yangu ...

Matako Yangu ni mawili ...

Matako Yangu ni matamu ...

Tako la Kwanza : Mapenzi

Tako la Pili : Kufanikiwa Maishani

Kwa madhumuni ya ingizo hili, matako si diabz ila ni mahitaji. Ondoeni hizo akili takatakani

COMING NEXT: THE EVOLUTION OF MATAKO AS IN DIABZ ...

THE MARKET FOR LOVE

2007-05-28T01:38:00.000-04:00

AN ECONOMIC PERSPECTIVE ON LOVE:

I hate to “commodify” people but for the purposes of my argument, I beg your pardon. Let us assume that jamaas and mamaz are playaz in the market place. By playaz, I mean they are demanders and suppliers of a “good” or “goods”. There is plenty of anecdotal evidence to ascribe the term “good” by the way … Now, the market place is EVERYDAY LIFE, that is classrooms, streets, farms, workplaces, hanyez, churches (especially churches). Finally, the commodity/good being traded is LOVE. Crucially, it is possible to “price discriminate” in the market place. That means that my goods are not priced the same as your goods. This invariably introduces another variable; price. Within a set of demanders and suppliers, the equilibrium price is attained when two “traders” meet each other at the right place at the right time; their feelings for each other are indistinguishable – they feel the SAME way about each other, at the SAME time. These two individuals are then said to be “IN-LOVE” … sorta like IN-THE-MONEY” but not quite.

So why can’t a sista buy herself some LOVE? A mama who poses this question to herself is UNABLE to conduct business in the market place: In any market for “goods” , there are BUT two explanations for this inability:

They exercise their choice not to buy the good (in spite of having value for exchange)
The good is too costly.

An important provision is apt at this time: Ceteris paribus, that is, holding all else constant, this scenario applies for GENUINE merchants of LOVE only. Every market has its own inefficiencies and wastages. The list below (and note it is not exhaustive) represents the wastages and inefficiencies in this crazy market for love a.k.a the LOVE KUBAFFS. These will be nonchalantly ignored:

“Hit and Run”

“Sex Bila Jokes”

“One-night-standers”

“Nipe-Nikupe”

Hardcore feminists!! - GRRRRRHHH ...

Etc …

The first reason (choice) is claimed by many a mamaz, but is only genuinely applicable to a few. That’s because it’s the sexier/less potent of the two poisons. True enough, there are mamaz who have scoured the market and genuinely decided that they want no part of this good called LOVE. This is part of the exchange process and there can be no gripes about them …

The vast majority however, need LOVE but can’t seem to get any favours from the market. This is where the concept of “kutolewa rangi” comes in. We now live in a society where the haves frown heavily on the have-nots. Even the have-little despise the have-nothings. With this associated stigma, who is going to ADMIT that they cannot bargain for LOVE in the market? Only a precious few! The rest proudly proclaim, “Why the hell do I need a man?” Note here that BARGAINING CURRENCY is obtained from the numerous social interactions, teachings from parents, church, etc. A corollary of this definition is that when we say that the good “love” is too expensive, it is synonymous to saying that there is INADEQUATE BARGAINING CURRENCY!

But how would such a situation arise?

Let’s take a journey back, back into time. Often, it is instructive to literally step “outside” of time and observe linkages between events. Unfortunately, we are often biased towards present events . Understanding these past-present linkages should occasion us invaluable insight in trying to establish a focused, effective and goal-oriented framework for facilitating the EXCHANGE for LOVE. Forthwith, I will argue that the quagmire accruing to Kenyan mamaz from the afore-posed questions is a direct result of the invisible tensions between the traditional, the modern and the religious!!

Should a woman marry a younger man?

What is the right age for a woman to get married?

Why do women panic when they reach 30 on the BT?

Way before the Union Jack was shamelessly hoisted on our hallowed soil, way before young Kenyan boys started wearing netted vundas, these questions, these dilemmas were for all intents and purposes, NON-EXISTENT. Society had AUTOMATIC STABILIZERS in the form of defined roles that were a double-edged sword. In the largely GERONTOCRATIC SOCIETY, place dictated form. Women were almost exclusively subservient to the whims of men. It was assumed that the commodity LOVE was superior to INDIVIDUAL CHOICE. Simply put, everybody had to get some. This was achieved by ensuring that women had little or no say when it came to choosing the SUPPLIER of love. If a man looked, and liked, and had the BARGAINING CURRENCY, that was pretty much sealed. Interestingly, our traditional society can hardly be said to have been dysfunctional in this regard. In essence, LOVE was deemed a PUBLIC GOOD which society was generally better placed to apportion Please note that in return for this acquiescence, men had to provide for the security of the family. This security was all encompassing; basic sustenance, protection (literally) and the household representative in the community. But that was before the advent of CHOICE or simply put the coming of the WHITE MAN to our soils…

To put the traditional-modern tension into perspective, allow me a wee digression – a tribal one. I have heard contentions that the influence of traditions has waned considerably and that with more and more kids forgetting their mother-tongues, that soon this influence will be phased out. What a fallacy! This is a very naïve and superficial position. After all, I do not live in Utopia and like to temper my reasoning with a touch of realism. I do not accept the notion that the ties between the members of a community/tribe are so superficial as to be confined, defined and dictated solely by commonality of language. Conversely, I would propose that language in itself is only but the outward, “visible” manifestation of primordial kinship ties and bonds that run deep and thick as blood. Long before Kenya was a nation, tribal units were the default “states.” Within each tribe, and over the course of generations, members of a tribe had to learn to stick together to survive. Societies developed customs and traditions (some are still practiced today) that were unique to themselves and that helped fortify and foster identity, or a sense of togetherness. As such, to expect or demand a sudden suppression of identity elements that are arguably inherent is to display a gross ignorance of the nature and power of traditions in African societies.

To demonstrate, let us examine the following:

WHY DO SOME WOMEN FEEL A COMPELLING NEED TO MARRY OLDER MEN?

I have heard time and again the bullshit argument that it is because WOMEN MATURE FASTER THAN MEN. Puleeeaase!! This is where I introduce the PRINCIPLE OF CONVERGENCE to debunk this myth once and for all. This principle dictates (and is borne out in real life) that the maturity curves for men and women are Sigmoid, or roughly “S” shaped. Women start out faster on this maturity curve than men (as evidenced during puberty years) but then the curve slows down to the extent where men catch up. The two curves then continue upwards before flattening out together at the zenith of the maturity level (we can’t mature infinitely).

The real reason, in my opinion, lies deep in our roots. There has been a subtle continuation of the substance, and not necessarily the form, of gender roles. What do I mean? Men are still expected to be the security providers, but subtly so. This is implicitly taught to young girls and by the time they are making the all important LOVE PURCHASE, it is no longer a rational decision. The subconscious has already been bandikwad with the “do’s” and “don’t’s “in the love market. This situation renders it extremely difficult (not impossible), for a chille to get MALOVINGS from a junior boy. I mean, if I am born @ the same time or before a certain chille, let’s call her X. Now we attend school @ the same time, maybe even deskis. If the “roles” card is flashing in mamaz mind after sijui campo, what is the probability that poor Mwangi can prove his mettle to this mama? I just have to put up and wait for the chillez who are clearing primo to mature and find me balling …

WHAT IS THE OPTIMUM AGE TO BUY LOVE?

Traditionally, as soon as a mama was of “child-bearing age” and had a line of suitors, that was manenos sealed. Today, one has to contend with school, career moves, etc. It is no stretch to imagine that the average marrying age for mamaz has shifted upwards by a good 10 – 15 years. But MENOPAUSE hasn’t cooperated! Imebaki pale pale. So it’s not without sense that the alarm bells start ringing when a chille kanyagas 25 years and has machinations of raising a ka-mini football field …

Might we be wrong then, to tie an issue like marriage to PROFESSIONAL and FINANCIAL accomplishments? Remember our precondition at the very beginning: the equilibrium price is attained when two “traders” meet each other at the right place at the right time; their feelings for each other are indistinguishable – they feel the SAME way about each other, at the SAME time.

Maybe LOVE should really be an independent event! Maybe in our zeal and zest for money and promotions, our EQUILIBRIUM POINT passes us by. Maybe that perfect person for us sails by. I mean, if you are waiting to be baked before you start your MARKET OPERATIONS FOR LOVE, doesn’t that mean that the glue that holds your LOVE together is money, and therefore that, in the absence of it, that LOVE disintegrates? Through thick and thin has increasingly become a mantra that everybody loves but no one practices. In my opinion, it is probably the ONLY TRUE foundation for true love …

WHERE ARE THE MEN WHEN THE WOMEN ARE 30?

Now this is another tricky one. Everything about our society cries out for conservatism; SEPARATE the boys from the girls to NEGATE the actualization of inevitable fantasies. Look at the proportion of boarding schools that are mixed to single-sex? What do they teach in Sunday school all the way up. Ati mahanjam ni mbaya mboff … ni za ibilisi!! This spatial separation could lead in the long-run to the question: JUST HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NEGO. THIS LOVE MARKET?

Luckily, this is largely trivial as it is negated by the raging hormones that endow traders with natural trading instincts … sort of like the way breast feeding came naturally.

The most serious problem with regard to the scarcity of men is a direct follow-up of the “OPTIMUM AGE FOR LOVE TRANSACTION.” When a mama pitishas that magic age, the corresponding supply of men have either all married, or if not, they are looking for an energetic kadogo dogo and could care less …

So what happens? If you HAVE TO buy a good @ the market and you arrive late, si the good ones will all have gone? Now if you ABSOLUTELY have to take home, you will have to settle for the rejects, the poor quality, the unripe fruits. You are pretty much at the mercy of probability with regard to getting quality. Thus it is also with LOVE! That’s how some mamaz end up settling with some kubaff jamaaaz, yet countless buyers had inquired waaaay before the market was close to closing only to be rebuffed!!

SPECIAL CASE: KENYANS ABROAD

Technically, there is supposed to be greater variety, but only IF AND ONLY IF, one is in the international market. If you are like me, that is, will only have your love wrapped KENYAN or bust, it can be a FUCKED up situation. If that be your circumstance, it is a market of SCARCITY. Settling and compromising, unless of course a stroke of luck befalls one, is the ORDER OF THE DAY. Obviously, if it doesn’t cost one much (minimal emotional investments), then RIDDANCE is like spitting a ball of saliva from the 15^th floor of a building – chap chap. The probability of dysfunctional relationships abroad, is therefore, much higher a mon avis.

Do you guys agree? If so, what do we do? If not, what is your summary opinion? I’d love for us to share kidogo on this …

Ps: I promise I’ll neva eva put a longer post!!

Why is it So Hard to be a Woman ( ?)

2007-05-24T20:49:00.000-04:00

I stumbled upon " My Days On Earth" during my usual blohoeing session. Binti_Mrembo (I think) gives a very interesting story that is well worth reading. I think she's a recent blogger and I don't know if she is on KBW coz I saw her post though Technorati. Anyways, I have decided, after reading that post that the "Evolution of African Diabz" can wait kidogo. This is more pressing and I'll try give my $ 0.02 worth on the issue in my next post.

TRUST ME, HER ARTICLE IS REALLY INTERESTING. IT IS WORTH A READ!!

What is the right age for a woman to be married?
Do Women have an expiry date?
Are "Morally Upright" Women Punished Unfairly By Life?
Where do Women Go Wrong?
Why is it so hard to be a Woman?

PS: PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE A COMMENT ON THIS POST. LEAVE THE COMMENTS ON THE POST TITLED "SWEET AND MARRIAGE"

African vs. Jungu Diabz ...

2007-05-23T11:25:00.000-04:00

Objective:
To compare the posterior accentuation between African and Jungu Mamaz

Sample Size:
jungu = 30 mamaz
african = 30 mamaz

Null Hypothesis:
There is no difference in accentuation between an African diabz and a jungu diabz

Alternative Hypothesis:
An African diabz is more accentuated than a jungu diabz … [ click to see Exihibit "A"]

Accentuation Test:
The challenge here was to develop a subtle, fair and scientifically measurable test.
That was achieved by computing the “wobbling effect” in a random sample of mamaz.
We assume vector quantities, not scalar. That is, the closer to ZERO the “wobble magnitude” is, the more accentuated the diabz is.

The “wobble magnitude” is obtained by observing the number of sideway swings made by a diabz, without bobbling up and down. This means that a “perfect wobble” has a magnitude of exactly ZERO, that is, if observed for a minute, the diabz will sweep equidistant “left-right” arcs with minimal “up-down” disturbances …

RESULTS:
The null hypothesis was rejected at all levels of significance. The African mamaz win, hands down. The key question is HOW?

EXPLANATION:
Two raus of grey-goose* –pineapple, and off I was, traversing the ethers to the Galapagos … whither my answer was revealed. That will be the object of my next post entitled:

“How African Mamaz Have Bigger Diabz than Jungus – An Evolutionary Approach”

Motive:
Why would someone do such an experiment? Well ... very good question ... but sometimes why is less important than how! Let me demonstrate ...

Tell me:

How would a goose* (a real goose) look in high-heels and shades?

Get Paid Kuchambua Methali !!

2007-05-22T09:17:00.000-04:00

Wakereketwa wa lugha, Wazalendo, mpo?

Methali ... chambueni ... kama hujui jaribu tu. Kuna zawadi kem kem kwa mshindi ... tena kando !!

"Cha mkufuu mwanafuu ha, akila hu, cha mwanafuu mkufuu hu, akila ha!"

Haya, twendeni kazi!!

The Purrfect Kiss ...

2007-05-20T23:46:00.000-04:00

I just came from my friend's graduation party. It is Sunday 12:15 AM. I have not slept a wink since Friday night. I am quite maji ...

It is high time I posted maji ... always wondered what it would be like... not anymore ...

When you are on the bilaz train, you tend to have the most passionate moments ... in your mind. Like now, I was fantasizing about a kiss ... a perfect kiss. I can probably sacrifice a tongue right now to have a kick ass kiss ... hmmm ... sorta like unyc selling her car to get gas money ...

So I looked in the mirror and said to myself:

"Is it possible to have that perfect, kick-ass kiss?"

My self performance appraisal hints at the following:

The lips look kissable ... enabling a perfect kiss ...
But the nose is too big ... ruining the perfect kiss ...
So maybe I'll breathe too heavily on the "kissee" ... preventing the perfect kiss ...

Somebody* kiss me ...

* gal. gal. gal

Kenyan Mamaz - Why I Still Love 'em ...

2007-05-17T13:46:00.000-04:00

Why I still love Kenyan Mamaz ...

Last night, in my customary fourth gear of a keroro induced slumber, I finally understood everything. I was, through telekinesis or some cabalistic power, teleported to the annus mirabilis of human existence, where it all began. That year is 1905. There, I was presented with the “The Special Theory of the Relative Experiences of Kenyan Mamaz.”

The most emotionally discombobulating question/comment a pretty mama can ask/make is:

“Do you know what I have been through?

I have been through a lot …

These kinds of remarks conjure images of majonzi, despair, utter desolation, et cetera. Kumbe!!...I hereby present to you a succinct equation that is the quintessence (tial) embodiment of mundane mama chatter (ly) that should shed a gleam of dawn ... on these experiences ...

E = mc²

Where:

E = Everything (note the capital “E”)

m = magnified
c = complicated

and:

“Everything” and “Magnification” are equivalent and transmutable …

Following are several practical applications of the theory:

“I have had such a bad day” – When a guy utters these words, mamaz please dote on him. Give him a hug, a big wet kiss, and if schedules permit, let him access you horizontally. Why? Because he means exactly that! He might have had an accident on the way to work, missed being hit by a car, was fired from work, or a host of other commensurate tragedies! What about mamaz? Ati the b/f did not call her at lunch time, she overheard a co-worker bitching about her, or more trivially, ati chai ilimwagika kwa jiko in the morning and she had no time to wipe coz she’da been late to work… Ngai fafa …

“He put me through a lot” – When a guy semaz he’s been put through a lot by a chick, it’s some serious dose … like finding out on the wedding day that a chick’s been wekaing other jamaas 4 all this time, or almost getting his “tools” chopped off in an argument … but some mamas … eish … maisha needs to go on … you’ll pata a mama is not eating, is not talking, can’t go to work, is crying all the time … ati coz of memories of a guy who dumped her 2 or 3 months ago … na ukimwuliza ni nini, unaambiwa “It’s that time of the month” … cum on …

With mamas, it’s all relative … small issues are magnified … serious ones are downplayed. I have decided to stop criticizing and start understanding. At the end of the day, after all the relativity is accounted for, there still is nothing like the good Kenyan gal next door … still love ‘em all to bits … be they farmgals or princesses … so I’ll always be relatively ready to relate to your relative experiences if you cum ova to my place …

footnote: Lesson from a village boy … to avoid the “chai related stresses” described in (i) above … spread the tea leaves on the “about to boil” combo of milk and water and koroga with a kichungi … that way … hautamwagiliwa ….

My Confessions ...

2007-05-15T21:18:00.000-04:00

Why I Blog ...

1) War on Identity:

According to Google, I am a 43 year old married farmer with three kids looking for a $ 1200 loan to buy a dairy cow. Ati what? Kubaff!! Do you know the life expectancy of a Kenyan Male is 49.78 years as of 2006? I have not even gotten laid half that many times and they are saying I have kindu 7 more years kwa hii dunia. Aish ... those were not the nyondos I was talking about ... Shindwe!! Paka mweusi ...

ps: They even had the audacity to "update" my condition on my b-day - kubaff tena !!

People THIS IS THE REAL JOSHUA MWANGI :)

http://blog.joshuajmorgan.com/life.php/2007/02/18/joshua_mwangi

2) Make You Guys Smile:

If you sometimes visit my blog and leave with a smile, my job is done. I aim to please. This is subject to confirmation though ...

3)Night Job:

What better job for usiku than "hoeing"? Bloghoeing (EGM correction ... Tato ) ... I try to abstain Monday - Thursday ... replenish my juices ... but come Thursday, am on a rampage ... I hope I give y'all a good time ... but there's more in the pipe.. line ... Keep coming for refills ...

4)Najivunia kuwa Mkenya:

I am very serious about this ...

My parents, my schools ... all have taught me about leadership and service. My playful nature should not deceive anyone ...
"Meeting" like-minded individuals like you spurs and motivates me ... and believe it or not, I harbour great dreams ... and believe that with the will of God, I'll be involved with some of you in future in doing things for our Kenya ... watch this space ...

5) Make Friends, Learn Vocabulary

Bloghoeing ... (EGM)
Sex Bila Jokes ... (Archer)
Bilaz Train ... (Milo)

Keep it coming guys :)

Friends, I like you all ... some more than others ... naturally.

Let me tag:

Bomseh
Archer
Modoathii

A seriously wet DREAM

2007-05-14T16:26:00.000-04:00

There is a fine line between thinking outside the box and lunacy. Sometimes, I am not sure which category I fall in. This is one of those times. Last night, in my fourth gear of sleep I had a dream ... and no, it wasn't a sexcapade with a "yet to be named" KBW hottie. I woke up, in the middle of the night, drenched with sweat, thoughts dominated by the following ideas:

There has never been tribalism in Kenya
There is no tribalism in Kenya
There never will be tribalism in Kenya
Actually, tribalism is a myth … it doesn’t exist!

Is this madness?
Is there an iota of truth to the dream?

My Village Sevens ...

2007-05-11T10:23:00.000-04:00

Being a bonafide village boy, I cannot forget memories and lessons inculcated in dear gishagi. Following is a bonus "7" from that most wonderful life, which I yearn and long for ...

I once wore a gumboot with a rat in it – yea I am a village boy, deal with that …
I can make chapattis – round ones for that matter – the softness, however, is subject to probability ...
I cannot type on a keyboard without looking at the letters …
I can milk the hell out of a cow … two nyondoz @ a time …
I have done “hill skating” in the village – dissect a Jik Container, sit on it at the top of the hill and submit to the will of gravity ...
I am an exception to the law of flotation, Archimedes’s Principles, and any such related fluid laws – in other words – I CANNOT SWIM ...
My mother has spanked me more times than I can count. Most memorable: Once in class, in front of my classmates for playing soccer in class, for fighting with my SMALL brother over bread, just because she could – so it seemed!! Despite that, I love her more than anything in this world or the next …

My Sevens ...

2007-05-11T00:28:00.000-04:00

I nyonyad mpaka nursery school. I suspect that is where my obsession with boobs emanated… there is nothing I enjoy like going to sleep with a nice, round boob tucked in my mouth …
Sometimes my ego gets soo big … if it was a man and you found him in bed with your wifey/mama, instead of beefing, you’d just cover me nicely and sing me a soft lullaby …
I have REAL metal in my left foot – 2 screws and a plate – thanks to a crunching soccer tackle a few years ago. On the positive side, this helps me get automatically attracted to mamaz … who I consider magnets …
I THINK I like older mamas …
I have preached on several occasions – when I was in high school …
I have experienced sleep paralysis - I think I met the devil while I was @ it … and I was not afraid …
“Strong to Serve”

I tag:

chatterly, farmgal, komi, betty, unyc, princess, prettylyf

Chelsea: Kubaff ! - Man U: Shupavu !

2007-05-09T12:12:00.000-04:00

Chelseaaaaa: Kubaff ...

Uniteeeeeed: Shupavu ...

Mvinyo – tutakunyua leo jioni ... tena Stamford Bridge
Mdinyo – tutafanyia leo jioni ... tena Stamford Bridge
Mourihno – tutamkunia leo jioni – tena Stamford Bridge

Chelsea ... kubaff ...
United ... shupavu ...

United ni mazimwi
Chelsea zimweni
United: mabingwa - ni upele
Chelsea: wajinga - washweni
Tumewatinga kama Pele
Mchezo wetu ni Samba*
Uwezo wetu tumesambaza

Chelsea ... kubaff ...

United ... shupavu ...

Mnaboo ... oneni wenu utundu
Miboo ... nyonyeni yetu ... mzibwe mikundu ...
Mourihno ... mtukutu ...
Ferguson ... mtukufu ...

Chelsea ... kubaff ... nyang'au

United ... shupavu ... angalau

Arsenal:

Wenu mashabiki

Wetu marafiki

Nyie sasa wanafiki

Mie siasa sifiki

Muhula huu visiki

Ndiyo yenu riziki

Nendeni likizo!

Liverpoool

"howdy mate"

Sitopoteza mengi mate

Ila tu kuwaonya ...

Bila tu mtaona ...

Mtavunjwa mvunjike ... na Milan

Mtabinjwa mbinjike ... na Milan

Huu wangu unabii

Bidii fanyeni mtii

Go Milaaan!!

A Pink Panther ... oops... Panty ...

2007-05-06T21:12:00.000-04:00

In this age of terror, we have been advised by the department of homeland security to be keenly aware of our environs ...

My first agenda thus, as soon as I step out of the office, is to quickly absorb my surroundings. And so it was that on my coffee run last Thursday, I inadvertently stumbled upon a diabz ... a a "wow" diabz ...

I uttered a quick prayer to implore the good Lord to forgive my eyes. Just before diverting my line of sight to scan for other potential sources of terror, I saw something that made me linger on the diabz a wee longer ... a pinkie !!

This chick was in some tight, tight black pants that really accentuated the hinder parts of her body. The pink thus was a stark contrast that demanded further investigation. What was she hiding? Was she a terrorist?

And investigate I did. Kumbe!!

My visual probe yielded several possibilities:

i) She had nyambad a serious one, raruaing her pants, exposing her pink panties ...

ii)She had dropped her phone and in the process of picking it up, lacerated her tight black pants, exposing her pink panties ...

iii)Her posterior had expanded in size between the time she left home and this particular moment, exposing her pink panties ...

I considered tapping her on the back and apprising her of this series of unfortunate events. But my strength failed me. What if I ruined her day? What if I dealt a crushing blow to her self-esteem? No, I could not have that on my conscience. So, I watched her disappear into the train station.

What would you have done?

Wardrobe Malfunctions

2007-05-03T12:47:00.000-04:00

Shetani Ashindwe!!

What have I done to deserve this?

Why do I have to be on the receiving end of the weirdest wardrobe malfunctions??

I love boxers. I love boxers without buttons. When I go for a number 1, chap chap, unzip the trao, junior falls out and we go to work on the second best feeling ever … you get the picture? I got a rude shock today. I had been stuffing myself with coffee at work, tingling my nerves and basically wasting a whooole lotsa company time. Then my bladder had enuff. I kimbiad for the usual routine only to discover the unimaginable. Junior would not come out. I could feel him beneath the boxers, yes but could not see him. By this time, I WAS SOOO PRESSED and desperate. I groped and groped, looking for a non-existent button, all the while praying nobody walked in on me, but to no avail. I rushed into the # 2 station where I came to a sad realization … I wore my boxers backwards-forward this morning!! There really is something wrong with my head.

APPEAL FOR ACTION

2007-04-29T20:11:00.000-04:00

Fellow bloggers:

Strong to Serve ?

I consider this post a logical and necessary progression from my previous one. I have been a KBW member for slightly less than a year. It behooves me to admit that my interaction with your posts has been nothing but entertaining and thought-provoking. Blogging has become an integral part of my routine, to the extent that I sometimes curse out loud when some of you guys take extended vacations from blogging ...

I also believe that it is possible to get a general feel for someone's personality based on their writing. My honest opinion is that the vast majority of you guys are refreshingly civil, and care about our coutry, despite all our shidaz.

In light of this, I feel obliged to appeal to these amazing qualities for what I believe, will be a worthy and fulfilling cause:

I am proposing that we bring a smile to some of our less fortunate Kenyans this Christmas. I am convinced that we can do something special. It's not the grandiosity of our collective effort that is important - it is the spirit and genuine heart that will prove most fulfilling.

I am kindly proposing a plan of action:

a) Ideas for a cause that we can raise money for - I was thinking about a project that deals with kids, maybe orphans of HIV/AIDS ...

b)A voluntary commitment for a monetary sacrifice

c) For those of us who will be in Kenya in December and available, in the same way we'll meet for nyam chom, may be we could set aside an afternoon and go spend some quality time with some of these kids??

*******
The POA is rudimentary and will be improved upon by those of you who will commit to do something. I want to establish who's in on the POA and will liaise with the said individuals kando. I would like to believe am not alone on this ...
*******

*****
I would love to work with interested folks on this. I think the December timeline is feasible and gives us ample time to work with ...

I want to hear from you at the following e-mail address:

joshmwangi@gmail.com

My idea is to create a unified communicating mailing list from where ideas will be collectively exchanged. I am hopeful that we can overcome the inevitable issues of trust and anonymity that are likely to spring u from this. I will gladly work directly with individuals who harbour such concerns.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and look forward to working with you.

ps: I do not need haters on this one. If you are not feeling me on this, tafadhali reserve your comments for my next post ... we need only positive energy for this ...

Conscience: A Clarion Call ...

2007-04-27T12:39:00.000-04:00

Our dear Heavenly father …
Thank you for this new day
Thank you for the food that is before us
We pray that you provide for those that were not as fortunate …
Please protect us through out this day
In Jesus name
AMEN.

(Everyone settles down, some for prime rib, others chapatti with nyaki, others ugali-sukumawiki, or plain githeri)

Meanwhile …

KIBERA SLUMS …

Grandmother sits on her stool, casting a forlorn look … surrounded by twelve kids … in a one-roomed mud house. Her back is broken. She has no more tears left. She wants to curse God, she wants to curse the world … and die … and leave this hell of a life … heck … hell might be better for her she thinks…

But she can’t go. Not just yet. The kids need her. Their parents are long dead. Victims of HIV/AIDS. She curses out the kids’ fathers – her own sons. She knows it was them. She knows they brought the disease to her daughters-in-law … she knows they brought her present misery. She curses them … then stops … then starts blaming herself … did I not raise them right? She begs God to forgive her … but her prayer is interrupted by the squabbling kids … they need food … God can wait … she decides …

Meanwhile …

A well fed group of young adults is arguing. A healthy, intellectual argument … in fact a wee bit too healthy. “Fix me another screwdriver” … “Hook me up with another Amstelizi” … The night whiles away … great laughs … flirting, hook-ups … erections and ejaculations … pure pleasure. “Oooh man, last night was GREAAT …” A morning glory materializes …

Back in the slums …

Drunken men. Poor men. Staggering past fly infested children. Stepping on shit. They can’t go home. They have no money. No food for their wives and children. So they also fuck Hos. They fuck and fuck. They fuck raw. They fuck here today, there tomorrow …raw… Then they take the virus home … to their wives … and orphan their kids in the process … fucking muthafuckas … poor grandma … who cares for her? Who?

Another news conference …

Fucking Kimunya with his statistics. ECONOMY UP BY 5.8%. Per capita higher than ever before. Inequality down. Kibaki is working. Raila has a Hummer. And grandma still toils. Fucking muthafuckas. Nobody is working – not Kibaki, not Raila, not you, not me. Fuck us all. Until grandma finds solace …until she finds peace …

.....

Another Healthy, HAIRY debate. This time, a self-conscious chick. She wants an afro. She wants kinky and nappy hair.”Fuck the white man,” she says. I will be free. The white man brought oppression. I will rebel. I will be free. Then she sips a top shelf vodka-martini … and grandma still toils … still suffers … FUCK THAT. Fuck the independence movement … until grandma finds peace … until she finds solace.

And Mwangi keeps yapping. Can’t he shut his fucking mouth? Does he want to save the world? Ha! Ha! Ha! What a dumb ass he is!! We’ve seen many like him before. They come today, tomorrow they are gone.

Fuck that!! I will speak my mind. Insulate yourself if you want. Lock yourself in your fancy house, count your money, smile, sip champagne. Let life go on. But if you read this, if you make the mistake of reading this, you fucka, know this: YOU are fucking guilty. We all are. If God is just, the fire of hell awaits us. Fuck a good heart. It is not enough. Fuck sympathy. We need empathy. We need grandma peaceful … she needs to rest forever with a smile … she has little time …

Fuck Hairy debates.

You want to gripe about the West? Let me give you something REAL to rebel about. Let me tell you how they really fucked Africa over … A concept. Fuck it:

DOMINION!

Fuck dominion. It is the scourge of mankind. We have lost our African way. With every generation, a small piece of our heart goes … our sense of commonality … our togetherness … our love for one another … our hospitality … gone with the fucking wind. Fuck us all …

Fuck dominion. Now it’s al about competition. Every man for himself, God for us all. Money today, money tomorrow, more money, more money … for what? For things! For materials. Better ones, better houses, better cars … materials, materials, fucking things …

Dominion. I will be richer than you fucka. I will be better than you. It permeates all facets of our existence. Brother competes with brother, neighbour against neighbour, nation against nation … to impose their fucking ideology … power, money, greed, narcissism.

And Grandma breathes her last … a cold, tearful, miserable last breath …

But who sees? Only her grandies. They cry. They are alone 4 real now. Who can they tell? Me? I don’t ever fcucking go there … You? We are out socializing … me and you. We ain’t got time for those little fuckas … screw ‘em. The media? Pleeease … they don’t give a crap, either. The gova? GDP, Budget, roads, fucking tourism … all bullshit. We have insulated ourselves against this little world. It touches our hearts when we occasionally see images … some of us cry … but we do not have balls to do much else. We can’t be encumbered by all that misery. So we go out, feast, drink, and next day we have forgotten …life goes on. FUCK US ALL.

Fuck the preachers. Fuck the farmers. Teachers, doctors, mboch’s . All of us. Guilty. All of us.

CONSCIENCE

Is what we have suppressed. Is what we need to regain. Pursue your success. Pursue your money. Be happy. Raise a family. But don’t ignore your conscience. Don’t ignore grandma. Don’t let her dying wish be in vain … “Does anyone care?” she pondered with her last breath …

Do you, fucka? Do you?

Our dear heavenly father
Thank you for this new day
Thank you for the food that is before us
We pray that you provide for those that were not as fortunate …
Please protect us through out this day
In Jesus name
AMEN.

Fuck bitterness.

Dreamweaver ...help !!

2007-04-27T10:02:00.000-04:00

I had a very strange dream last night.
I won an award for $ 30,000
But:
To claim my check
I had to complete a Sudoku in 5 minutes
In front of a packed audience!!

Peeps, does this mean anything?

Should I start doing sudoku?
Or should I play the lottery?
Or what ... ?

Of African Women and Hairy Issues ...

2007-04-25T10:32:00.000-04:00

Having priory declared my penchant for “vegetation-free” mamas, I guess one could be forgiven for thinking am about to revisit the issue. Pole. Get your mind off the gutters. I am talking about the other hair – the one I shave with no qualms …

I had an exchange with a Kenyan mama yesterday about this easy-to-shave hair. Her attitude was captured succinctly in the following paragraph:

“My hair - my curly, funky, half permed-half natural, short, thin and brown* hair is an extension of my personality, cultural background and most importantly my heritage. It dawns on me that the decisions I make on hairstyles are a reflection of my bondage and freedom even though more often than not it is beyond my control. “How can I remain captive when I have this knowledge? How can you remain captive when you have this knowledge? Is freedom coming tomorrow? I think not, it has been here with us all this while but we have chosen not to take it. Let us allow uhuru to prevail in our lives and let it show by how we chose to wear our hair!”

I think it is better to speak my mind than to boot-lick and wag my tail for mamas. I risk incurring the wrath of some feminists, “defenders-of-the-African hair”, et cetera. As long as we debate each other on the merits of the argument, I will embrace their caning …

My opinion is brutal, but is also honest:

Get over it!!

To politicize an issue as trivial as "that hair" is not only escapist, but also a tad hypocritical. If a mama wants to resist, to really resist the neo-colonial impulses, I hereby prescribe Mwangi’s modus operandi. Please note that it is not exhaustive by any means and is merely proposed as a guide, which the user should feel free to ameliorate...

Usinyoe kule kule – If you want to roll ancestral, there is no greater, demonstrable proof than a canopy downtown. You will have to look for a Dinka man though. Kenyan men have moved on … And please usiwai ingia Victoria Secret – unless you work there …
Kifua kavu – Subject them to gravitational force, whether they sag or are non-existent. That is how we rolled back then. The bar is set high on this resistance movement …
Sabuni + Lotion = Kwaheri : If these commodities exist in the house, it is because ur jamaa is sooo disgusted by your adherence to protocol # 1 above that he employs them after you leave the house …
Perfume: Tia zii mami. “Free your pheromones” is the new mantra. It might actually mitigate for the effects of protocol # 1 above …
Rudi Kenya!!

CONCLUSION:

These are actually not trivial pointers. The message I am putting across is:

You cannot pick your poison. You cannot denigrate women who are conscious about their hair, who want to make it look “good” by whatever means – by accusing them of being encumbered in a “neo-colonial” mindset.

And Jesus said:

“Let he who has no sin cast the first stone …” [somewhere new testament]

Such castigation is, for a lack of better term, academic thuggery!! It is more sentimental than rational, and probably precipitated and catalyzed by Afro academic circles eager to ooze metaplasma on a polarizing topic. This inevitability of a clash of civilizations is upon us: on one hand, the political clash endows us with liberty - liberty to resist complete assimilation, liberty to embrace our nostalgia for a past long gone ... but alas, it is such an irony... on the other hand, a slow, tightening, inexorable wind of change that started when Shaka Zulu was presented a mirror by the mzungu [okay, I kid, I kid]. Its ultimate goal is convergence; it is unyielding, unaffected by prayers, unaffected by pockets of resistance and all-consuming - affecting all facets of our lives; political, monetary, cultural values, religious disposition, language, attitudes, et cetera ...

Maybe it is the destiny of mankind - to be one - and whereas resistance is admirable, I fear it might only be temporary and meaningless over generations to come. Look at how African languages are being lost. You say you want to resist, yet you can’t even speak your mother-tongue!! Yet your capitalism-induced thirst for materials is insatiable. You cannot pick your poison. If you choose to keep your hair unadulterated, please don’t use profound justifications – they don’t make sense. Liberty, my dears, with its attendant choice sets. It really is that simple …it is our greatest neo-colonial gift!!

I stand to be corrected

BYOM – BRING YOUR OWN MEAT!!

2007-04-23T16:34:00.001-04:00

Last Sato, I was up early. It was a splendid spring day. But I was famished. A barbeque with some jungus was in the offing that afternoon and I spent the best part of the morning drooling, trying to divert my mind from the impending feast, but was occasionally distracted from my task by the incessant Ashanti drummers who were perched in my stomach. I was in for a kidogo shock …

One lesson to keep in mind when you barbeque with jungus: BYOM (Bring your own Meat). When Kenyans gather for a barbeque, there are two constants: pints and meat; real meat. The grill looks awesome, resplendent with prime rib, a hypnotizing aroma of barbeque sauce … a hungry pack of wananchi, patiently watching the grill, smelling the air, readying their tumbos with a fortifying therapy of their favourite brew. Not with jungus. I washed down the first hot dog with a cool brew to calm the minyoos, and then I settled down to wait for the meat. Lakini wapi?? The hot dogs kept coming, punctuated intermittently by cheeseburgers. Then more hot dogs, and more hot dogs. Wooi, BYOM ndugu zangu …

Another key lesson is: For the duration of the barbeque, you love dogs – seriously. I mean, Kenyans are well aware that mere mongrels do not merit the use of personal pronouns. The use of “he” and “she” is strictly reserved for people. In addition, for us Kenyans, dog fur/saliva do not really go well with meat … or hot dogs for that matter. Not with jungus. We were greeted by Leo and Toughy; the latter possessing a truly ironic name. “She” is partly a kiwete; the front right leg is inside-out. When she walks, “her” gait is akin to a model, I mean, assuming jungus hold mongrel pageants … you get the picture I hope … But Toughy makes up for “her” short-comings with the courage of a lion. “She” is a tiny, tiny dog. Pint sized, smaller than some cats I’ve seen. But she dared challenge a big dog, like the ones in Kenya. It was a spectacle that left Toughy bleeding from the ears and neck, and the owner red-faced. But seriously, fungia vijibwa!!

Finally, be prepared for “weird” questions; especially from old jungu mamas who seemingly have no historical or geographical perspective.

Is it hot in Kenya? (Translates to “Is that why you are so black”)
Do you live close to modern Kenya? (Translates to “Do people still live in the bushes”)
Do you live close to the Maasai? (Translates to “Do you still have “exotic” tribes”)
Do they still hunt? (Wtf! When were they last hunting?)

Luckily I have been around long enough to take such questions with a ka-grain of salt. I am more entertained than irritated by such displays of cultural ignorance. And no, it’s not my fault that they were not “about Africa” in school. As such, it is impossible for me to accept such an apologist mentality. But I’d gladly accommodate these niggling idiosyncrasies if only they wekad some REAL MEAT on that expensive grill.

A REAL REASON TO QUIT BEER ...

2007-04-09T15:22:00.000-04:00

The Wrath of Grapes ...

Up until yesterday, I always thought that people “put on” alcohol a lot of blame, mostly undeservedly. Chief among them is the notion that beer “kills brain cells.” This has got to be the biggest pile of bull ever assembled. After all, if that were true, is it wholly unreasonable to expect that the brain cells that cajole us to drink beer would have been long dead?

Secondly, is the notion that drinking beer is a sin. In fact, my church back in Kenya so strictly adheres to this doctrine that we use strawberry juice in place of wine during communion. Am not so sure this goes down well in heaven but then again, it’s the faith that counts … Talking about counting, I had this weird fantasy that drinking beer might count as a sin on judgment day.

Given that:

a) Beer consumption predates the discovery of bread...
b) These days approximately 133 billion litres of beer are consumed annually …

I don’t think angels keep a log of individual consumption. So what if a proxy measurement will be used? Let’s say the size of one’s kitambi. I was thinking that Kenyan men will be doomed on this account but after watching an episode of The Sopranos last night, our spot in paradise is secure. Tony and Bobby are in for a roasting. I mean, those are humongous beer bellies …So once again, this is not a good enough reason to quit …

Thirdly, some chicks are very “demanding.” I have heard a lot of chicks say they’d rather not mess around with a guy who has a “pot.” They should be well advised that “All men have six-packs.” It’s just that some men are modest and choose to conceal theirs … But since I know how persistent chicks can be, forewarned is forearmed. There is song that they always play on radio that can’t leave my mind:

Gal I’ll really try to work it out
Am tired of panting...
I hope that you’ll want me
The way I want you
There’s no excuse
I got this nice-bulge where my six-pack used to be …
Am so old, am so old, sooo old …

So once again, this is a flimsy reason to quit …

BUT this last one has sent me scampering to formulate a withdrawal timeline. If I can have, in my retirement, an erection as monstrous as the hangover I just had this past Sunday, I am likely to die a happy man. The irony is that it might be necessary to abstain from this deliciously pleasurable product of Jesus’ first miracle if am to enjoy my 401-K. It has come to my attention that beer, in the long term can reduce one from a stud to a dud. The problem is, the cumulative effects take time, and can kick in just when you settle into that retirement mansion for a lifetime of loving and being loved. Now that, I cannot cope with. I dug up a lot of stuff online, and science seems to unfortunately, corroborate this position. BEWARE KENYAN MEN!!

I have long considered the process of beer drinking, with friends, to be the second most pleasurable activity after [YOU KNOW WHAT]. Soon though, this is going to be a thing of the past in light of this evidence. But first I have to clear the six-pack of Heineken in the fridge and the Southern Comfort before I can quit . Afterall, Kenyans DO NOT throw away alcohol as ACOLYTE so aptly puts it here.

Of KBW sexcapades ...

2007-04-01T14:45:00.000-04:00

I enjoy trying to visualize how KBW bloggers look (only chicks), their ages, and what type of personality they may have based on their writing. I have a feeling it doesn’t work. But my generosity knows no limits. I think my brain maps a direct proportionality between blog content and “potential aesthetic appeal”. In short, I am trying to say that I am yet to visualize a KBW mama who is not sawa … but do I say???

It gets even more interesting. You see, my mind likes making mini-movies. When I visualize a sawa chick, I want it to end there. But my brain does not let me. Like wahenga walivyonena: “Kichwa hakina pazia” (?)

At this juncture, I am mightily embarrassed, yet obliged to announce that I have “gotten laid” by a LOT of mamas on KBW. I did a Dinka on all of them, and I even remember trimming coz a few of them would not reciprocate my Dinka sans a trim …

But that’s neither here nor there. I really wanted to tell you guys how one of these episodes almost got me beheaded on Friday evening…

You see, I did not sleep a wink on Thursday night. It’s not because am a minute man. Nay, on this material night, my brain was inexplicably polygamous. I hamad from nani’s blog to nani’s. … and I swear every single one of them patiad me, and I gleefully pokead …

The problem is: I had to go to work on Friday morning. And so it was that I spent the whole day at work dividing my shamba amongst all the “sons” that I had sired the night before …

The afore-mentioned task was so arduous I could not last my 8-hr shift. At exactly 3pm, I said sayonara to my boss and hit the road. I had to get home soonest possible and get my dose of sleep. Little did I know …

I was jolted from my reverie by a pissed young black lady on the bus, approximately 25 minutes later. Hell hath no fury like a miro woman aggrieved ...

Unfortunately, I’d blacked out and placed my arm around her. Gladly, my profound apology sufficed to assuage her fears. I was not making a pass at her and was glad I did not get a tongue rollicking ...

I blame the KBW mamas. It was all a dream.

Kibaki Tosha !!

2007-03-26T23:47:00.000-04:00

These days, it seems the sexy thing is to be anti-Kibaki. Before I get accused of being a Kibaki sympathiser, let me confess - I AM. I am amazed how people rely on unverified information, zero data, and conjecture to denigrate a hardworking, compassionate government. There are people who are impressed with what the government is doing, and their voices cannot be muzzled. Firm evidence, not rumours corroborates our stand. Kibaki Tosha. We are tired of the endless cacophonous cackles from biased and agenda driven zealots. Kibaki Tosha.

You see, when confronted with data they contend it's too dense. So pictures are drawn. Nice bar graphs and trendlines. Still they are bamboozled. It seems only a data intravenous intervention will convince them.

Which quickly brings me to my point:

These people are NOT patriots. They are enemies of progress.

It is trivial to show how:

In light of the positive economic trends, Kibaki deserves kudos, and even another term to continue the good work to make lives better and better for Kenyans. If anyone has beef with the economic data, that is okay, but a heavy statistical burden of proof weighs on you:

a] What is your beef?
b] Do you understand what the data says or are you against it because you have no clue?
c]Do you have an alternative set of data that is opposite of the government position?
d]Why are you keeping it to yourself dadi/mami?
e]Huna stats? so why the malice? The only conclusion is that you'd rather see or are willing the economy to flop so you can validate your accusations, huh??????

What about corruption? What about insecurity? What about tribalism? Which is where Gathara comes in with an answer. In his post, Kimunya's Propaganda Train, he correctly observes that :

"The economic decay Kenya experienced over the last 40 years was largely due to kleptocratic and incompetent governance."

They say you cannot walk before you crawl. I say you cannot crawl if you have no legs. Kenyatta and Moi combined to amputate the Kenyan baby, each a leg. How do you suppose you can fix a problem created over 40 years in 4 years? Please ... let's be fair ...

What Kibaki has been doing is surgically reattaching the legs to the Kenyan baby. Second term, he will teach the baby how to walk and the good Lord willing, vision 2030 will see us learn how to walk, then we can start jogging. People should stop treating this race as a sprint because it is a VERY LONG MARATHON ...

Just in case this I am leaving anyone confused as to my points, they are short and sweet:

i] I am proud of my country
ii] I am proud of my president - 2nd term inevitable ...
iii] If that drives anyone insane, I make no apologies, I mean, fcuk you

Music and Sex : Is there a link ?

2007-03-19T13:38:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time, when I used to go to Sunday School, I remember us being told about the wonders of creation. I remember being told that even birds of the air give praise to God through "song." I remember believing that story ...

Now am not too sure. I think its booty call. There is something about music and getting the groove on. Even the ugliest, and horrible noise-making animals always step up "music wise" while trying to get laid. Granted, they may not have developed complex notes but their noises come as close to music as they'll ever get when it's that time ...

Maybe it's the same thing with human beings. Maybe music is nature's way of telling us we are going to reproduce whether we like it or not. Darwin's thoughts on this subject are very interesting indeed:

“... it appears probable that the progenitors of man, either the males or females or both sexes, before acquiring the power of expressing their mutual love in articulate language, endeavoured to charm each other with musical notes and rhythm.” (Darwin, 1871, pp. 880)

Do you guys agree?

Going Downtown: Lessons from the Dinka

2007-02-28T11:31:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: This post contains regional cultural elements that may not be palatable for all. Reading discretion is advised.

I have always wondered whether the National Geographic Television exploits African Tribes in some of their programming. Amongst the tribes who have managed to retain their customs in spite of modern pressures, NGEO really enjoys showing semi-naked women, and for the keen-eyed, it is obvious that not only do they zoom in on these women’s mammalian glands, but they also prolong the frame a few seconds. But the object of this post is not to gripe about NGEO. Not after what I saw yesterday.

When it comes to going downtown, some men have always trodden with trepidation; am talking about involuntary trembling and quivering. Some guys just do not just “dive in” . They evaluate the pros and cons from afar:

Is there a certification from the Food and Drug Administration, declaring “FIT FOR CONSUMPTION”?
How is the vegetation?
Kadhaa push-ups to psyche themselves up …
Etc, etc …

After last night, I discovered that such fears are at best, frivolous. Do you know what the Dinka Men do to stimulate their cows to produce more milk? I swear to one God: THEY GO DOWN ON THEM!!!!!!

I was incredulous at this. I mean, the guy was not licking; he was whole-heartedly consuming the ng'ombe's nini. I closed my eyes, shamed that they dared show such a scene. I opened my eyes 30 seconds later and the dude was still at work. There and then, I found myself wondering:

Do these guys ever go down on their mamas?
Should any man worth his salt ever, ever, ever have any qualms going downtown on a mama?
Will I burn 4 such thoughts?

Classic Bullying Experiences ...

2007-02-21T22:00:00.000-05:00

“Form 1, when I clap, you jump!”
After obeying the instructions …
“Form 1, who asked you to come down?” …. Hefty slap …

“Form 1, May your carcass rot!”
And all were supposed to respond in unison:
“Long live Nyangweso!”

Our school is hosting games. One of the big boys “hooks” a chick. He’s vibing her.You mistakenly happen to cross infront of him. He orders you to stand still and smile so he can intro duce you to his girlfriend. He proceeds thus:
“Sweetie, I present to you my washing machine.”

“Form 1, who am I?”
The response to which unfailingly had to be:
“How can we know you, O Father, your knowledge is unfathomable to us”

*This one was the most humiliating*
The jamaa partly takes off his shorts, exposing his pubic hair. He tells a guy to count how many pubic hairs he has ! The guy counted 96. He was chapwad ngotos coz the guy thought he had more than a hundred …

Yet another one. A guy gives you 50 cents during the first first days. He asks you to go to the canteen, buy him bread and leta change!! That time you don’t even know where the canteen is … he directs you to a teacher’s house, eti that’ s where cheap loaf is normally sold …

Do you guys have nasty memories from high school ama primo?

Kenyan Women NOT Good in Bed.

2007-02-15T15:21:00.000-05:00

It has emerged that Kenyan MEN have a voracious appetite for sex BUT that the WOMEN are neither good nor frequent at it.

This is where Ms. Gertrude Mungai comes in. In recognition of this fact (?), her entrepreneurial spirit has convinced her to set-up a course to rectify this situation before it spirals out of control.

Objectives of the course:

a] To emphasize, and consequently teach, the fundamentals of a strong sexual performance in relationships - complementary with, rather than substituting, the traditional prerequisite of "exceptional culinary skills" and "vigorous child-bearing ability"

b]As a corollary to objective (a) above:

To give sufficient incentive for men to help around the house, automatically safeguarding against philandering - an inherent Kenyan male trait

Methodology:

A combination of pole, belly and lap-dancing, accompanied with various strip teasing techniques will be taught.

Qualifications:

a) Kenyan woman, must be over the age of 18

* An initial placement practical will be conducted to determine the skill level of the participants*

*All qualified participants are encouraged to submit their applications*

NB:

Limited Scholarships, covering the full costs of training , are available for rural women, as well as women over the age of 60. Apply early as the scholarships are on a first come, first serve basis

Money-Back Guarantee:

Your man will never be the same again! If you don't notice a change (coming home early, incessant desire for sex, etc) within the first week of training, you are entitled to a full refund.

Application Deadline:

Approaching soon, register ASAP !

Why Kenya is NOT ready for the gay community

2007-02-09T09:58:00.000-05:00

Is Kenya ready to embrace the gay community?

Forgetting for a minute the revealing albeit questionable survey that hugged the Standard Front Page yesterday, what do people think about this issue?

For starters, the widespread belief is that homosexuals are not genetically predisposed as such, but rather make conscious lifestyle choices. The jury is still out in this regard. Rather than pretend or lie or even worse, adopt an indifferent opinion, I am of the opinion that until they isolate the gene responsible, homosexuality IS a lifestyle choice.

But the question I posed was: Is Kenya ready?

I propose that we need not worry about the genesis of homosexuality to answer a very definitive “no.” Why?

What if we consider one's sexual orientation as a moral norm?
A norm becomes stable in a society when the benefits associated with subscribing to the norm outweigh the costs. I believe we have not reached this juncture. The costs (stigma, ridicule, physical punishment, workplace discrimination, etc) far outweigh any benefits a gay Kenyan might think of. Furthermore, I think that the delicate interplay between the attendant costs and benefits is evolutionary in nature. I believe that it is harmful in the long run to attempt to accelerate the process. Obviously in Kenya, we are headed towards, rather than away from tolerating gay people. The tipping point might come, but not as soon as some of us would wish.

We had a lengthy debate about this issue on another forum and one member posed this scenario:

“How much should society permit? Sooner or later, polyandrist leaning individuals, persons of group sex orientation etc will come out of the closet advocating for their rights.Society is organic and whereas at any one given time it has its limits of tolerance, it, beyond the ebb and flow, always finds a way of steering towards where the best interests of all lie.”

And now I ask all of you, If you all agree that citizens cede authority to a central government so that the “most good” (i.e the interests of the majority) is done, then why do we seem to have a problem submitting to a norm that has withstood the test of time – one that society holds stable for whatever reasons – but surely for the best interests of society?

As for my personal feelings, I would be flat out lying if I said it was a simple matter to reconcile inwards. Nay, all I would hope for is that in the final analysis, I should be found tolerant, devoid of the blemish of prejudice.

Solving Insecurity - give us guns !!

2007-02-06T12:52:00.000-05:00

Let us also be allowed to carry guns. Priory, these gun totting bastards were only interested in money. We excused them. We said that the government was not creating enough jobs. The idiots have evolved. They are younger, more sadistic and gruesomely brutal. Men and women alike are being raped with impunity; mouths are being blown off for fun. Kalashnikovs have replaced toy pistols and G3s …The antidote is but only one. Let us allow ordinary wananchi to arm themselves so they are in a position to act in self-defense. Why?

1) The thugs have upgraded their weaponry, so why shouldn’t the rest of us? As of 2002 when I left Kenya,. My father had the following arsenal to protect his family (ranking is in ascending order, starting with the most primitive …)

· Two buckets of stones
· A walking stick cum “sword” (you know them wazee walking sticks that have a sheath hiding a poisoned blade … it’s the closest thing to a sword I have seen)
· A bow and set of arrows
· An 8-foot long spear – this is the crème de la crème of our arsenal. The efficiency of this particular spear was demonstrated back when I was in form 4. Thugs attacked our house for the first time. The window grills were no match for a big-ass stone that these guys used. Luckily, and unbeknownst to them, they attacked the wrong window, right where my father slept – one ear alert to the demons that lurked outside. The first smash paralyzed woke my sisters up and paralyzed them with dread. My mother meanwhile went into her default defensive mode, she started praying in tongues. My father went to war, imbued with divine courage that ebbed from my mother’s incantations and coursed through my father’s blood. With the second smash, the window came crashing down. It was now an empty space. The cold breeze whispered eerily into the house, as if aware of the impasse that loomed. My father did not wait for the bastards to make their move. Luckily, the thugs were not wielding guns. None of them had the courage to get the shaft first, and that is probably what saved us …

+ Obviously, close combat has now taken on a whole new meaning in Kenya. One would almost rather be patrolling the streets of Baghdad than be faced with Kalashnikov vs Machete Battle. What if they rape you in front of your kids? That would be the end of your manhood. Rather a painful death than that ignominy. GIVE US GUNS. If they come to our houses, may the best man win. But they will have trepidation, and if you realize they are there before they enter your house, they better have brought body bags with them …+

2) People will not resort to using guns to resolve domestic squabbles. Generally, this is true. How many homes do you know that don’t have a machete? Yet, how many people slash each other every day? Not that many.It is within acceptable statistical range. And even if machetes were not there, these exceptions would still strangle whoever they wanted to harm. What would you then? Cut off their arms?? Well, obviously you haven’t seen Jack Bauer in a sizzling episode of 24, tearing OUT another man’s jugular with his bare teeth, hands tied behind his back … and spitting it on the ground like it was “gikorora” …

3) Still for those who are only satisfied by raw data, it is instructive to point that it hasn’t been established that possessing guns raises the level of crime. Sweden, the most heavily armedSociety in the whole world has a population of 9 million, there are (2006) 656 000 persons who legally own about 2 million weapons: 959 000 rifles, 726 000 shotguns, 122 000 combination hunting weapons, 88 000 pistols, 55 000 revolvers, 3 000 full auto weapons and 78 000 extra barrels and other parts you need a permit for. The age limit is 15.* Besides, we are always crowing about how we Kenyans are peaceful, let us put this to the test …

4) The police are scared of the thugs. Some police are thugs. Police are being killed by thugs. Politicians have a convoy of bodyguards, all totting automatics. So who is to protect the common mwananchi?

5) By golly !! Men are being raped!!!

GIVE US GUNS !!

* Thanks Dr. Matilu Mwau for the stats*

Why Kenya Needs Fewer Political Parties ...

2007-02-03T23:09:00.000-05:00

The Statistics:

# of political parties in Kenya as year end 2006 = 75
# of parties represented in parliament = 8
# of new parties registered in 2006 = 21

Pending [notable] new parties:

i) Rap-Kenya --> Pastor Pius Muiru
ii) Vijana Progressive Alliance --> By the "Youth"

Conflicting Schools of Thought:

P. Lumumba:

"In such an atmosphere, faith in political ideology is not taken seriously;political parties are just vehicles for those who claim political office to sail through the sea of politics ... "

ECK Chairman Samuel Kivutu:

"I do not know why they are being formed. If it is because of the Bill, it is very dishonest. The fewer the better. Ghana had 10 parties, but they have gone down to four because of a law."

Kenya National Human Rights Commission Chairman, Mr. Maina Kiai:

"Let it be like a market where parties will be exposed to natural selection over time."

MY TAKE:

In my opinion, the debate on the optimum number of parties for Kenya is long overdue. Further, I would like to voice my support for Messrs P.Lumumba and Samuel Kivuitu. The proposal to drastically reduce the number of political parties in Kenya is not only laudable but also crucial to nurturing a healthy democratic system. Despite being the norm,the status quo, espoused by the likes of Mr. Kiai is detrimental to competitive politics.

There is plenty of anecdotal evidence to support the "less is better" position. The United States and Great Britain, for example , are telling case studies. I would dare suggest that these two nations - if you'll pardon my choice of superlatives- possess the best democratic institutions. The United States boasts of two main parties (Democratic Party, Republican Party) and so does Britain (Labour & Conservatives) ... we could add the Liberal Democrats to keep the naysayers at bay.

Mr. Lumumba rightly postulates why fewer parties are better. His suggestion that fewer parties foster an ideology based political system is spot on. Certainly, this claim is corroborated by the aforementioned analogies of Britain and the United States. We've all heard of catch phrases like pro-life, big government, et cetera being peddled through the media ...

That said, skeptics could argue, and perhaps rightly so, that such a scenario could readily unfold in a 5, 6, or even 10 party scenario. The "natural selection" scenario hypothesized by Mr. Kiai certainly does not look implausible at this stage. For this reason, I believe that in addition to fronting why fewer parties are better, it is vitally important to demonstrate how this ameliorated situation arises.

Keeping the number of political parties at a minimum raises the TRANSACTION COST of switching parties. "Cost" here is more roughly synonymous with "inconvenience" rather than the conventional notion of cost in $$ terms. When you have 2 main parties- A and B -the electorate are under no illusion about what each of the parties stand for. Assuming a member of party A becomes dissatisfied with his party, what is her/his recourse?

a) Switch to B and risk being labelled wishy-washy or "flip-flopper" ?

or

b) Fight to impose her/his viewpoint within party A?

Clearly, a few individuals would opt to incur the higher transaction costs by switching to party B. This would likely transpire if:

a) They feel they have been aggrieved irreconcilably [Joe Lieberman -closet Republican as we speak]

or

b) The said individuals enjoy significant political economies of scale with their electorate within the niche in which they compete, hence offsetting the high switching transaction costs. This can be occasioned by any number of factors including longevity (Muite would probably always win the Kabete seat based on this), fanatic following (Raila maybe) or quite simply the lack of a viable opponent (Better the devil you know ...)

However, as long as a critical mass of aggrieved individuals remain to advocate for change in their original parties, then the aggregate effect in both parties A and B is positive. Leaders in both parties, faced with a barrage of complaints would have to accede to compromise and stronger, ideologically driven parties A and B would evolve.

Mr. Kiai's idea of party evolution would ultimately be manifested, but not by natural selection. After all, natural selection depends a lot on unpredictable chance. Although we could be sure that the 'fittest party" will survive, we have no clue whether "the fittest party" would provide a conducive climate for a prosperous Kenya. What if , God forbid, a party of bullies and dictators overcomes?

Hence, I'd advocate that we take the more certain route ...

Once bitten, twice shy ...

2007-02-02T09:05:00.000-05:00

Scenario:

Raila: "The President promised he would not run for a second term if we supported him in 2002."

Kibaki: "Some remarkable people got surprised to hear that I intend to complete the period for which I was chosen to complete and I intend to complete it. I have no intention of giving it up and I have never indicated to anyone that I had any such intention."

Raila: "What example is the President showing to the nation? He is a Christian and he must tell the truth. Let him swear on the Bible that he never made such a commitment.”

The Political Reality:

To make things interesting, let’s even assume that Raila is right, that Kibaki indeed made the commitment. A lot of things have been said about Raila the politician. No doubt he is powerful, cunning, and most definitely influential. His latest outburst however betrays a man devoid of political astuteness. I have always thought of Raila as a very smart politician and am therefore really surprised that he’d show such political naiveté. Why did he lack the shrewdness and discernment to figure out in 2002 what is now returning to bite his back?

The vital lesson that Raila, Kalonzo, Musikari Kombo and indeed all aspiring and budding politicians will have to learn is this:

“Ex-ante Political Commitments are not credible.”

A commitment by two or more parties (individuals, politicians, businessmen, etc.) can be regarded as a contract. So in this case, we can assume that Kibaki and his allies entered into a political contract – albeit verbal – in 2002. Mind you, even if the parties involved had made their contract in writing, my argument would still be material. Why?

Expanding my argument further:

“Ex-ante Political Commitments are not credible because they ARE NOT legally enforceable.”

Why?

“Because political contracts inherently endow first mover advantages that render legal recourse meaningless”

To substantiate my claims, let us consider for example, a business contract, say one that involves the exchange of a good. This kind of commitment is credible ex-ante (before the event) because it is legally enforceable ex-post (after the event). In fact, such contracts can even be executed anonymously. That is why we can comfortably go online and give out our credit card details to another party, 10,000 miles away, fully aware that if the other party does not honour his/her end of the bargain, the end outcome might be way costlier than what they initially aimed to obtain fraudulently from you. In a way, this property renders such contracts self-regulating … almost an invisible hand …

Now consider a political contract like:

“I will not run for a second term if you all help me get elected this term”

If I am to agree to such a contract, it’s either because:

i) I am the one making the pledge not to run the second time
ii) Barring that, I am a complete moron

In my opinion, I believe Kibaki made the pledge not to run a second term. I even believe he meant to stay true to his word. But, there is certain predictability about the nature of power … it probably would not matter if Jesus had made that pledge. He’d probably still want a second term. I mean, what is to stop anyone? Beyond two terms, legal enforceability sets in and you got to go. Trust me that is the reason the maximum of two terms has to be written legibly in ink, and engraved in the constitution in democratic countries. Imagine if countries relied on “goodwill commitments” or in Raila’s case, on the fear of God:

“He is a Christian and he must tell the truth. Let him swear on the bible that he never made such a pledge….” [LMAO when I read this ...]

The only truth is, they got played. Not only that, Kibaki being the first mover now controls the whole situation. The state mechanism is at his disposal. He is quoted in the Standard as saying:

"I am quite sure that I will...I will...anyway I have friends."

You better believe that not only did he mean it, but also that he intends to bring those friends into his service in the coming days. This development is so fascinating it should be a case study in Political Science and Game Theory classes in Universities. I just feel sorry for the desperate folks who are on the receiving end.

Now, if ODM was to agree, by consensus on which candidate to front in December, and assuming that they even won the election (I doubt it, but that makes things interesting), it will be déjà vu in 2012. One of Kalonzo, Raila, Uhuru, Ruto, and Mudavadi would have amassed power and used it, advertently or otherwise, to dish the same lesson to his erstwhile partners.

That is just the way the game ALWAYS pans out. If only people could learn ...

Hot vs. Sexy: What's the difference ?

2007-02-01T10:14:00.000-05:00

Can a girl be:

Hot and not sexy?

Sexy but not hot?

What is the difference? I personally think it's people trying to be cute with language ...

Some haters were vehemently proclaiming that Beyonce is sexy but not hot !!
You know how they saw about beauty/booty lying in the eyes of the beholder/beer holder? I think the latter case applies to Beyonce haters ... She is SMOKING ... right peeps??

Open Letter to God...

2007-01-22T19:54:00.000-05:00

“God please, please, please help Man United to beat Arsenal …”

But you ignored my prayers yesterday morning. In fact, I think you’ll forgive me for being very disappointed in you. My laundry list of complaints:

1. I started praying at about 9 AM EST. That was a whole 2 hours before kick-off. Surely that was ample time for my prayers to traverse the ethers and reach you in time.
2. Did you realize I made my way to the bar – despite nursing a monstrous hangover – as a demonstration of my faith in the result? I could have watched the game from home, but wanted to celebrate with my fellow United supporters, and rejoice in the anguish of Ass.ernal fans. Instead you gave me hope for 80 minutes, and then allow Ass.ernal to score 2 late goals like that. Why did you instruct that “Faith without action is dead” if you don’t reward action?
3. Were you punishing me for over-indulgence in certain contaminated beverages the previous two nights? I am pretty sure the Ass.ernal fans were not sleeping at home on Saturday night waiting for the game on Sunday. Granted, my cocktails might have been more poisonous but still, I am pretty sure I composed a coherent prayer on Sunday morning for the game …
4. As if my anguish was not enough, you had to wait until I walked out of the pub after the game to make the snow start falling. Do you realize how much this compounded my journey back home?

I realize that I might be overreacting in this instance; after all, we are still six points ahead. May be you are really a MAN U. fan and want to give those guys a lil’ hope… you know, give them a “so close, yet so far” moment. If this be your plan, way to go …

I am willing to make peace with you on condition that our current 6-point lead shall not be dented any further. If I discover, in the course of this season that you are an Arsenal fan, I swear to you that that’s it between you and me.

But you are neutral in sports, right? You don’t support any team do you? You enjoy the games without a vested interest, right? What if Jesus or one of the arch-angels secretly supports a team and wants to influence the result? I think you should look into that because yesterday’s result smacks of divine interference. That needs to stop, seriously.

Please, please God, don be mad @ me. I am just being sincere.

Ps: If that Colts win over the Patriots was your doing, I am willing to forget what happened earlier on with Man United…just as long it doesn’t become a pattern. Deal?

Cheers,

Your servant jm.

Does Kenya need a National Dress ?

2007-01-12T15:20:00.000-05:00

Doesn’t she look fabulous??

How fabuloso would it be if Kenyans dressed in a gorgeous, unique and new national outfit, complete with all the attendant accessories?

How sweet would it be if when you walked any street in the world, people would instantly recognize you as Kenyan?

Do you think it would add extra spice to “Najivunia kuwa Mkenya?

So why have Kenyans rejected the new outfit?

a] Is it the exorbitant $ 100.00 price tag?

b] Is it the supposed lack of originality?

c] Are Kenyans just apathetic to such mundane matters?

d] The outfit is not representative of Kenya?

e] We simply do not need a national dress?

What say you?

Wealth or Happiness?

2007-01-11T13:22:00.000-05:00

What should be the inalienable rights of man?

“Life, liberty and the pursuit of property”

“Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”

Making a choice between the two constitutes an admission on your part that wealth and happiness are independent entities. In fact, could one argue that modernization’s comforts and conveniences have wrought more misery on mankind rather than happiness?

We all aspire for that big house, that fashionable car, the trendy clothes – all the while thinking that those things will make us happier than we already are. Yet in most cases, only the most cunning attain these “desirable” things. The rest of us gawk in amazement, desiring, stretching out but never quite plucking the fruit. Yet we never give up:

“If I don’t get there, my offspring will have a chance…”

If only it were that easy, how much better would our condition be? In life, we seek liberty and wealth, our liberator from the mindless pursuit becomes death – for only then are unwittingly forced to “give up.” But even then, our legacy lives on. Our children perpetuate the same myth. Hence do we have endless conflicts for resources; nation attacking nation, brother attacking brother, son attacking father...

If wealth was synonymous to happiness, then it would not be finite. Happiness, in my opinion, is an unquantifiable state of mind that can only emanate from practicing compassion from one being to another.

As such, in the words of Roy M. Goodman, “Happiness is a journey, not a destination.” I don’t know how one knows when they get there, or if one ever gets there, but I definitely think it is worth traveling. After all, we will all be dead and solitary for a very long time. Might as well make it count for each other while we are still around!

Of Dogs and Christmas

2006-12-21T16:32:00.000-05:00

Maybe I am just plain dumb, may be it is cultural ignorance, or perhaps a proportionate combination of both. I am incredulous that people will go to any lengths to please their pets. Seriously , do you think a dog merits special gifts to commemorate the birth of Jesus? I was thoroughly amused to receive an e-mail from my buddy, who was asked for advise by a mzungu:

"now x-mas is almost here,, need to get a present for my dog,, its really stressing me out,, i dont know whether to get him lil booties,[or] a coat,, or this really cute diamante leash,, or a china dish,, or what,,mmhmm dilemna dilemna,, u got any ideas?"

I am not suggesting that they should instead donate that money for charity in Africa or whatever, merely questioning the notion that a mere mongrel can usurp the position of upright walking homo sapiens as a companion.

Would I be overreacting if I suggested that this borders towards abhorrent?

If the shoe fits ...

2006-12-15T09:29:00.000-05:00

What the **** ???

As is the norm on Friday, I woke up this morning with a wide grin on my face. Hopped up in the shower whistling my favourite Kenyan and rap songs, willing the day to be boring so I can make up an excuse to make up later tonight . Then disaster struck ...

Like a popsicle lying on a sidewalk in the summer heat, my smile and psyche melted into oblivion. As I rode the escalator at the train station, these 2 ladies kept looking at me, then giggling. Ideas of a threesome were racing through my head ... how naive of me ...

It wasn't until I got off the escalator that it hit me. I became conscious that I had an unnatural bounce, like I was taller on the left side than on the right side. Then I looked down. Holy cow !! I wore two %*&# different shoes . I have no idea how this happened, it's not like I was dressing in the dark.

I am presently in a dilemma. Do I stick in my cubicle all day ? Do I go on normally, in the hope that people will look me in the face, not in the shoes? Do I wear my "gangsta face" - the I know, so what face?

Between a Rock and a Hard Place ...

2006-12-08T11:01:00.000-05:00

I am starting to doubt what my high school biology teacher taught me:

“Two different species cannot mate and produce a viable offspring…”

Ms. Tago, I beg to differ, with all due respect. I have perceived exactly such mating in the last few weeks, and it seems to be rather viable.

Do you know the resultant variant of fusion between E. coli and Salmonella?

I might not have a name for it, but I damn sure know what it does:

 It’s like clockwork; the attack starts exactly two hours after you arrive at work, no sooner, no later

 It’s impossible to ignore the call for the # 2. It doesn’t need your permission anyways, it’s an involuntary action – like breathing, like your heartbeat

 The aforementioned #2 is NEVER peaceful. (If you've ever blocked an exhaust pipe while the engine was running and then released after sometime, u will know what I mean)

 As if that’s not enough, the said #2 obeys the limit of 1/x as x approaches 0. It is undefined. What am saying is that you can never tell when the said #2 is done with you for the day, even though you think you are done with it, you may summarize ur bness, wash your hands, and just as you think you are done, colisalmonella tells you 2 hold that thought …

 If the State Department was in charge of ur #2 station, the travel advisory they issued on Nairobi would seem like a day after they are done with the said #2 station. They’d simply say “high, irreparable toxicity levels”

 When you come out of colisalmonella’s thralldom, you look emaciated, dehydrated, deflated, dejected, and are most certainly affected …

Now, under normal circumstances, I would not have any problems coping my own way with the above symptoms except for the fact that:

The #2 station is directly outside, and in full view of the Front Desk Attendant's desk @ work.

The stations above and below our suite all demand keys to employ their use

EVERY time I enter, there is always someone with his own "problems" in the neighboring stall in the station

Enter the mind games: After you have tore through your # 2 station (and s’times ur ass in the process), there is NO way you are coming out when ANYONE is there for a #1, specially if they entered mid-flight … As for the guy with his own "problems" in the neighboring stall, he either leaves before me or I ain’t coming out … else he’ll be peeping through the stall door’s crack 2 try and ID me ..hell no... u came in first so u get out b4 me, after all it wasn’t exactly pleasant when I walked in …

If you manage 2 solve all the above, there is still the little issue of approaching footsteps just as you step out of the stall … it will be none 2 clear who caused the damage

And then, the most difficult to solve is the little matter of the Front Desk Attendant. She/he saw you walking out, and unless they are on break when u come back, can you live with them knowing (on a regular basis) that u spend @ least 1/3hrs?? I can’t …

I have had to adopt various solutions 2 try and ameliorate the above problems:

Upon entering the station, since I already know I’ll be there a minimum of 25, I just take a nap and “let it rain” Afterall, it’s involuntary ...

If I happen 2 exit my stall and hear footsteps, vroommm… I quickly dart to the #1 station, dat way by the tyme the guy is entering, am “shaking it after use”… and can’t be embarrassed for the “state of the oxygen” in the station

If by misfortune I exit @ the same time as the colleague with his "problem" next station, I just smile at him and say “Either we are on the same breakfast schedule” or “Our metabolic rates are eerily similar” … talk about breaking the ice …

As for the Desk Attendant, sometimes I pretend to be on the phone as I exit, or I slither along the wall out of his/her view, down the staircase, and burn $ 2.09 on a Venti Brewed Coffee @ the starbucks downstairs … (rather costly solution)

Some peeps' are soo shten they just pass by his/her desk, ask 4 the day’s Washington Post, and proceed to wreck havoc, then return the paper while "parking mini-coopers in their garages” … no wonder I read newspapers online …\

Now if u’ll excuse me I gotta go,,,

Why mami is worried ...

2006-11-29T19:12:00.000-05:00

For the last two or three weeks, I’d been receiving (and ignoring) mami’s calls … because she always called when I wasn’t in the right frame of mind … I mean, time difference is kindu 8 hrs and if you call me at 9 am (Kenyan time) on Sunday morning from Nairobi, I can ascertain with 99.99% confidence level that my outermost electrons will be sooo excited … if it’s my mum or dad, there is 101% confidence that I will not pick up the phone. I respect them too much to risk feeding them gibberish …

And so things came to a head yesterday. I had just gotten home when the phone rang. It was my mum. Usual salutations … inquiries about health … weather … then came the bomb.

“Do you still go to church?”

I was holding on one hand the phone, and on the other a glass of Captain Morgan’s. I wondered if I should say yes so the topic could end or to be honest. I looked at the Captain and felt a tinge of guilt. I know my mother so well. By asking me if I normally go to church, it was her non-confrontational way of asking: “Is it because you are out drinking late on Saturday night that you do not pick up my phone?”

I looked at the Captain again. What should I say? Then the devil overpowered me. I took a monster swig and downed the 1/4 glass of rum in one go. For a moment, I went into a trance as the bitterly pungent rum worked its way down the throat, up the eyes (tear drop) and nose (belch). My mum jolted me out of my momentary reverie with an innocuous question: “Kari karia uranyua?”

By now, the warmth of the shot had worked its way up my body, emboldening me in the process. I was ready for verbiage. Without a twitch, I calmly replied, “aca, ni kajuice ndirakunda na dinner...” Distracting her attention from the “church battle” would have been catastrophic – especially with the mention of certain organic compounds – notwithstanding Jesus’ first miracle.

My mum hates alcohol with a passion – if that is possible. She has always cautioned me against going anywhere near, let alone consuming alcohol. But I started my theoretical rebellion early. Just so I don’t confuse my meaning, by theoretical rebellion, I mean exactly that. It was the best I could do. You cannot sniff an alcoholic drink and sleep in my father’s house – be you the first son, or even Jesus for that matter.

And so it was that after my KCPE, I had tons of temps libre to explore my bible. Alas, I stumbled upon 1 Timothy 5:23 . I promptly committed to that part of memory that records things like the first chick you kissed, wekad, etc … the part that never forgets …

“Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach’s sake and thine often infirmities.” I had the perfect weapon for the next time she lectured me on the ills of drinking. Or so I thought …

That verse (may the good lord forgive me) almost cost me my sanity. Immediately I quoted the verse to her, she went into a frenzy, countering me with prolonged, bitter and outspoken denunciations for what seemed like an eternity. To make matters worse, when the time came for me to finally go to form 1, I had to endure about an hour of counsel (more like rebuke) from our pastor and a church elder on the various apparitions taken by the devil and conveniently sneaked in alcohol as an example.

What a low blow! I mean, shetani is guilty of soooo many evils but kanywaji is not one of them. If so, what does that say of Jesus’ 1st miracle, what of Holy Communion in a lot of churches (not ours, coz we use strawberry juice)? Seriously, once you have set a precedent that alcohol is bad, then it necessarily implies that those who partake of it are bad … and if you so happen not to believe in lesser evil, then you can’t make a convincing religious argument that those who drink more are any worse than those who kunywa kidogo. Right? Perhaps you can question their discipline or moral uprightness (same way you would criticize someone who overeats, over speeds, sleeps in, etc) but not their fate when they die … I stand to be corrected though…

Anyway, I digress.

“Do you go to church?”

“No, I haven’t been since my sophomore year in college,” said I emphatically. That, mind you is almost 4 years ago.

Until my calling card ran out of airtime, I was barely able to utter a cohesive sentence; mami took over the airwaves and made me know what time it was:

I raised you in the church

If you don’t go to church you forget about God

Without God, you cannot succeed

You are also more likely to fall into bad company

And end up like Donde jr. et al

Look for a church

And get your [butt] over there

I love mami to death but I disagree with her.

 Yes, you raised me in the church and I really appreciate that

 Yes, I do sometimes forget to pray or even think I can do stuff on my own

 Yes, without God I cannot succeed

 No, I am not falling into any bad company – u raised me in the church, remember?

 I will not do a Donde on you, that’s a solemn vow

 Ummm… do I really have to ?

In the words of Julius Nyerere:

“The church cannot uplift a man; it can only help to provide the conditions and the opportunity for him to cooperate with his fellows to uplift himself.”

I often ask myself thsese questions:

1] Is there God ? And I answer yes
2]What does he want? He wants me to serve him
3]How? By serving my fellow brothers and sisters
4]Do I know how? I think so
5]So why go to church? I dunno ...
6]Do I have issues with the Christian intepretation of God? Yes, some things ... but overall, it can guide you down the straight and narrow...
7]Isn't the preacher giving me his own intepretation of God's word? Yes
8]Isn't my own intepretation just as valid? I think so ... I don't believe that going to bible school is quite the same as going to say, med school ... in the latter case, there is little room for subjectivity, almost formulaic, but in the former, i think one just perfects the art of "subjective persuasion"
9]Could I be wrong? Most certainly
10]What to do now? Pray, let my deeds serve God. If that's not enough, God have mercy on me.

BONO - RED INITIATIVE LAUDABLE - ROCKS

2006-11-21T08:00:00.000-05:00

We can't rely on individuals cutting philanthropic cheques every so often out of their disposable incomes.
That is why the RED idea is so clever - it is sustainable.
Mind you the overheads are so minimal that in excess of 95% of the money raised goes to programs on the ground in Africa.
This initiative is relatively new and should be given a chance.

Remember:

"A beggar's knees are supple" -Burdens by John Ruganda.

It is foolish to refuse AID just because we ought to be helping ourselves. If you are sitting in a comfortable recliner, sipping coffee somewhere in Nairobi, you should be the last person to criticize noble initiatives such as Bono's and others of similar nature. Think about the unfortunate among us who are suffering. Do you think they care from whence the AID comes??

To ameliorate the effects of HIV/AIDS, I dare say we take ANY aid, even from the proverbial devil himself. Otherwise, it would be a great travesty to allow people to suffer because of politics. In this issue, there can be no necessary evil.

Did You Know ???

2006-11-15T11:20:00.000-05:00

If you lifted your right leg and started making clockwise circles with it, and then tried to draw the number 6 with your right hand in the air ... your leg would automatically reverse the direction of the circle and start doing it counterclockwise??

Product Red: Why Bono Rocks …

2006-11-13T16:47:00.000-05:00

In a recent NY Times article, critics attack Bono’s (Product) RED campaign, which drafts corporate sponsors to contribute profits on RED products to fight disease in Africa — saying those corporations (e.g. GAP, Armani) have a reputation for running sweatshops in developing countries.

Bono, in his response argues that “I’ve come to a place where I realize that there is something obnoxious about a spoiled rotten rock star in a photograph with a vulnerable child taken by a dreadful disease. But that’s who I am and that’s who they are. And I’m doing my best.”

Whereas there is an element of truth behind the sweatshop stories, I think it must be acknowledged that Bono’s undertakings to tweak and motivate change at different levels of the developed world’s social, economic and political systems are laudable. Rightly so, he has been described by some as “the face of fusion philanthropy” given his impressive involvement in commercial and hybrid entities aimed at tackling poverty especially in Africa, as well as alliances with the aforementioned corporations, and even conservative politicians like Jesse Helms.

Nobody is perfect. But I think the net effect is positive for Africa. There are people, especially labour unionists, who are paid to level accusations at such efforts. And indeed, I believe they are at times useful whistle-blowers. This time though, I think they should cut Bono some slack. He is doing some GREAT work ….

Same Sex Marriage - an oxymoron?

2006-11-10T13:45:00.000-05:00

Consider the case of Vermont vs. Virginia....

Two women, Janet and Lisa were in a civil union. Now, when Lisa gave birth to "their" only baby, Isabella - Janet was there ... in fact she was the one who cut the umbilical cord ...
Because of the conservative nature of Virginia law, they moved to Vermont soon after Isabella’s birth.
Several years later, wacha wakakosana. Lisa argues that she has converted to Christianity, and that she condemns gay unions of any shape OR form. She thus severs her relationship with Janet.
But then there is the little matter of child custody. Janet argues that even though she is not the biological mother, she is entitled by virtue of their former civil union, all the visitation rights granted by law to straight couples who end up separating.
Lisa will have none of it. She is now a staunch Christian and argues that her new found faith cannot permit her to allow such visitation.
This is a landmark case, courts will have to set precedents. Conveniently, Janet’s lawyers are gay rights campaigners. Not to be outdone, Lisa’s lawyers have the ears of the evangelicals who argue that the mere concept of “same-sex marriage” is an oxymoron…
The issue now is not about these Janet and Lisa – it is about 2 diametrically opposed sides trying to advance their agenda in the court system. Lisa and Janet have now become pawns. Neither side can afford to lose because the precedent rulings will have severe implications for the losers.
What’s also interesting is that this case tests the supremacy of federal law over State laws.
Janet's lawyers, acting in their interests sue in the very liberal state of Vermont.
Ruling: Visitation granted.
Lisa’s first step is to switch residency back to Virginia. Her lawyers then countersued in the conservative Virginia.
Verdict: No visitation.
Janet appeals in Virginia.
Lisa appeals in Vermont.
I’d hate to be the judge deciding this stuff…what a dilemma !

Drunken Eccentricity

2006-11-02T13:25:00.000-05:00

Ethiopian: Starts drinking at 7pm. Is thoroughly wasted @ 3am. Gets into the New York subway ... apparently headed home ... wapi? Ends up sleeping on the train, and keeps riding back and forth, then jamaaa suddenly wakes up @ 11am ... not knowing wtf is going on, or wtf he is @ ...

Nepali: pombe without weed 4 these guys is no good. they actually prefer the latter. as one of my college buddies justifies himself ... "weed is better than alcohol because it only coats your brain cells temporarily, whereas alcohol permanently kills the brain cells" ... gotta admit for how smart these mofas are, there might be some truth to the statement ...

jungu: destroys a keg with his buddies in one night. commits either of these atrocities:
a) we find him sleeping peacefully on the streets in the morning- next to a homeless guy ...
b) has sex with his g/f - in a college room (u kn. how dem rooms be) oblivious of the roommate ... 2 make matters worse, the chick is a thoroughbred moaner in bed ...
c)finds himself naked in his ex. g/f's bed , next morning, without a clue on what transpired ...

Miro: i dunno if it's the 40's lakini these dude is especially IQ-less when drunk. oozing manly machismo ... "nigga, what the f. u looking @ me 4?" and this is on a public bus btw ... challenging kila mtu for a bout " i ain't afraid of death, nigga, i know u is ... want some of me "

Ugandan: fika hanye, pull up a chair, kunywa, watch other people gyrating, go home when hanye closes ...

Zimbabwean; mobb psyche 2 waka - lakini first to fall ...

Kenyan: kamata all friday night, fika afta hanye kamata, pints kwisha, fika home, wake up sawa sawa wondering where the mkanyango for sato night is @

BREAKING NEWS - KIBAKI DESTROYS ALL OPPOSITION.

2006-10-27T12:05:00.000-04:00

ROUND # 2 - Kubaf ...

Siku Njema, nmefika Kongowea
Mie Kinjeketile, maji maji nshakunywa
Vita vya vina, ngojerani mtakanywa
Uchaguzi u karibu – kobole – ntapewa lazima
Ubaguzi sina – ole – wote ntawazima
Kabila langu Hehe ... baridi nawaletea
Sikizeni makubaf ...

Tinga tinga, naiona yako pinga pinga
Tahamaki ewe mpenda samaki
Manyakee – umekula all sizes (get it?)
Mtondo goo – kala uroda – tena na Moi
Mtondo, oh noo – Kibaki tosha – hali yako hoi
Koo yako nimeikaba – sitoacha nakuasa
Ndo wako ukahaba - uache wa kisiasa
Mie mahiri wa uchumi – tahiri kabla uvumi ...
Kubaf wewe !

Musyoka, adhabu yangu utachoka
Subiri joint nmalize, nkutengue viuno
Nkuhubiri bongoni, nkuteke kama malaria - uwe mad
Kuniamba utokoma, nkikunyambia ulale
Makoko yako ntafinya wee, ntakutia baridi
Utopigania ukoko, siku ya uchaguzi nakuahidi
Mawaidha yangu jiuzulu, ikulu hupumziki
Aidha, mie Shaka nnazuru, nkudhuru kiZulu - ndo yako riziki
Kubaf wewe !

Uhuru, kai wii na ngoma iriku?
Ungali wanyonya kisiasa, ona nakuonya
Wewe bikira kisiasa, zako gani fikira?
Msumari wangu nnanoa, nkuzibe kimanyu manyu (get it ?)
Lazima utahara, nkikutoa kafara
Macho bangi ntakutoboa, rangi ntakutoa
Ntokudondoa kizimwi, nkubandike vidonda -kama vya ukimwi!
Kubaf wewe !

Ruto ?
Hatari yako haiwashi, hivyo mistari michache
Moto nakuwashia, kuliko wa gomora - uchache
Nkuyeyue kisiagi, nkutwange radi, nkuache ukichechemea
Ebu nkamate waragi, hadi che nkukemee
Kubaf wewe!

Musikari ...
Usinkunjie ngumi, mie nyangumi
Ntokutumia askari, akuonje vikali
Vioja umiminizwe, uachwe umedidimizwa
Njia zako kombo, insha lazima upewe
Dua lako gombo: liwe ishallah – Emilio jabali - urais apewe
Kubaf wewe!

Ngilu:
Not you mami, nasita kukuzika
Ijapo, sitosita kukushika
Rambaza sahita yangu
Nmesambaza ubingwa wangu
Wenzako nshararua
Nlivyosema kwenye barua
Charity huanza nyumbani
Nialiki kwako Ukambani
Milki yetu tuitawale
Eti Lucy?
Usiwe pussy.
Kichwa chake si timamu
Tena sio mtamu
Upesi upesi basi ... irabu nmemaliza ... nkuonyeshe maajabu ....

Imagine Daylight Saving in Kenya ...

2006-10-24T09:42:00.000-04:00

Thank God Kenya is @ the equator !

Have you guys ever pondered how much more shit there would be in Kenya if we had day light saving ?

How many times have you heard about siblings slaughtering each other for land ?

Now imagine this :

A lady is belaboured with twins ... it is the last saturday of october - you know - the day we "fall back" in time ...

screaming...

1.59 am : First child drops ...

more screaming ...

10 minutes later: second child drops ...

Dilemma:

Technically, the 1.59 am child is the first born right ? ....
But legally, since @ 1.59 am the clock moves back to 1.00 am, the second child is now born @ 1.09 am and becomes the first born ...

Fast forward: Inheritance time. Both can make a claim to be first borns, right ? One on a point of law, the other on logic. Sio ?

Kubaf ninyi - What Kibaki Really Meant ...

2006-10-23T17:22:00.000-04:00

Round # 1

Kazi yenu nyoko nyoko
Wacheni nkamate so-co so-co
Nwatusi bila kamusi
Mfanye hepa hepa
Niachwe na bibi zenu
Nkifanya heka heka
Kubaf ninyi !

Vijibaba vitukutu
Nmeingia mtukufu
Mkinletea nuksani
Ntawabomolea maskani
Kubaf ninyi !

Uchumi – asilimia sita takriban
Sitasita kuleta vita vya kitaliban
Props musipoleta - vinyesi nyie
Unyeti nyie – m drop
Kubaf ninyi !

Nmewasili, nnaleta fasihi
Mie pepo, nkemee nikuingie !
Mie upepo, ninyoree – mnyoro ukurudie wee !
Mie mnyambo – vuta pumzi – nkuroge wee !
Kubaf ninyi !

Hii ni raundi ya uno
Nawashauri mno
Musistaajabu ya Musa
Ya Firauni yatawagusa
Kubaf ninyi !

Waganda na Kingoso ....

2006-10-21T18:20:00.000-04:00

"Ugandans know English"
"Tanzanians know Swa."
"Kenyans?"

It does not take much to appreciate the Kiswahili spitting abilities of Tanzanians. They need only open the mouth for 3 minutes and you are scuttling away to look for a kamusi...

As for the Ugandans, I always thought their fame for knowing English was always generous. I mean, we Kenyans can hold our own, right? Until I met a certain Mugabi, a Ugandan holding the title of "Membership Consultant" at my gym ...

The dude was firing SAT words @ me like crazy. Was this a proud Ugandan trying to assert his linguistic superiority over an unsuspecting Kenyan? I am watching him really closely. Should my suspicions be confirmed, I have a perfect riposte ... I'll just wave the 100 kenyan bob i still retain in my wallet for sentimental value and ask him "My brother, do you know this money could make you rich in Uganda?"

And on that note, are we Kenyans famed for anything, linguistically speaking? Ama we are the in-between of Ug. and Tz. ??

Of God and Money

2006-10-18T10:25:00.000-04:00

Of God and Money

Can God answer money prayers?

This has not statistically been proven but I think observation suggests that:

The poorest among us, across all walks of life and religions, are the most consistently and genuinely pious ?

Yet, and especially amongst X-tians, those who teach the poor to "seek first the kingdom and its righteousness" are filthy rich ...

Money is man's creation.

Man was created with the propensity to exchange stuff. In no other species will you find this trait. But, owing to division of labour, every man constantly has need for his neighbour's stuff.
The genesis of currency is directly linked to the necessity to alleviate the inconveniencies of exchange. [Adam Smith]

So can we really expect God to open the proverbial floodgates of heaven ? Should we ?

I wonder ...

2006-10-17T15:57:00.000-04:00

Of Science and God

Scientific evidence, in my opinion, corroborates rather than undermines the existence of God. In the same way that spontaneous evolution makes zero sense, I believe there is a process through which God created the universe. The existence of the Big Bang should be a headache, not for the believers in God, but for non-believers. Where did the finely tuned laws come from ? The matter?

Secondly, it should be noted that creation of the universe and creation of man are two separate events, with the big bang facilitating (provided matter), rather than disproving the possibility of creation.

2006-10-17T13:32:00.000-04:00

Of the Origins of Life …

Big bang? Evolution? Creation? As a staunch believer in Creation, I have to admit that bits and pieces of the former two theories are very very compelling. But what if they are not incompatible with creation? Anyway, I am better off starting from the beginning …

All religions (Traditional African Religions, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, etc.) believe in the existence of a supreme being/beings. Furthermore, they all purport to have been created or originated one way or another from their supreme being/beings.

According to the teachings though we know that:

Murungu (Kikuyu God) ≠ Enkai (Maasai) ≠ Allah ≠ Jehovah …. And the list goes on …

Would anyone doubt that based purely on physical characteristics:

A Kikuyu, Maasai, Arab, Jew, White, Chinese ALL came from the same source? I am taking this as a given. I will also take it as a given that God exists.

If that be the case, how meaningless are the squabbles about whose God is the true one and what not? The fact is this. THERE IS ONLY ONE GOD. Out of this realization emerges two and only two possibilities:

Only 1 religion is right in their perception of God ( I highly doubt)
All religions are wrong (In one way or another, I’d say this is a certainty)

But alas! Religion is a human construct. It is the logical product of the inability of humans to fathom infinity. Put in other words, it is the active manifestation of the vice-like shackles of time and space on the human mind. “In the beginning there was God” How about before the beginning? How about before God created. What was there? How can nothing exist? What is forever and ever? The answer is God.

Because we were created in the context of time and space, and clearly God is not confined by these rules, how then is it possible to understand his works?

Conjecture.

It is the reason we have so many religions, each purporting to understand God, yet arriving at vastly different conclusions with fellow beings about the nature of God.

It is the reason we have the evolution theory
It is the reason we have the big bang theory

Of the existence of God, I have no doubt. It saddens me that throughout human history, we have slaughtered each other in his name. Today, we are doing so ever so subtly. Yet deep down, because we are afraid to confront engage in “God debates” we have failed to come to the stark realization of our commonalities of origin and the intertwinement of our fates. Do we need an alien invasion to jolt us to this reality?

Oh we foolish beings of earth
May God show his mercies on us …

2006-10-17T11:31:00.000-04:00

Of Heaven and Hell (Part 2)

Most of us Christians are familiar with the verse:

“No one comes to the father except through me [Jesus] …”

Think about this scenario. Picture yourself in Africa’s interior, say 1500 A.D You might be fishing on Lake Victoria, digging in Murang’a or herding goats in Loiktoktok. No colonial boundaries exist. Let alone hear of Jesus, no one has the faintest notion that other men except black exist …

Another scenario. You are born in Afghanistan – 1998 – at the height of the Taliban rule. Your parents are devout Muslims. Pray five times a day, give alms, read the Koran, etc. Do you think you’d ever get to hear of Jesus and his teachings? And if you did, would you forfeit what you grew up believing? We are a function of what our parents and communities are. That is an irrefutable fact.

In all fairness therefore, hearing or not hearing about Jesus in a way that you can accept and adhere to his teachings can be attributed to probability – that is – the probability that you are born to a Christian family. Given the population of the world and the number of professed Christians, I dare say that the said probability is less that 0.5.

I find it hard to accept that the God I pray to, all loving and caring, would operate like this. There must be a lot we do not understand

2006-10-16T16:49:00.000-04:00

Cogitations on religion

DISCLAIMER:

For those who for personal or other grounds would rather not debate religious issues, I beg you not to bear any ill-feelings towards me. This posting is fully representative of my thoughts, and is intended not just to invite debate, but also to find answers to questions that I have long pondered, that neither my mum nor my pastor can answer …

Of Heaven and Hell …

Given: God understands our thought process.

Does it matter if you think about getting laid before marriage, cheating on your wife, etc vis a vis going out and committing those sins?

Does it matter if you think about challenging static and firmly rooted religious beliefs versus actually engaging in discourse to try and get answers?

If you believe that in the former case it doesn’t, it must follow also in the latter scenario. Surely, if one wholly subscribes to Christ, the bible and the teachings there in, I submit that the definitive answer to the aforeposed questions based on traditional Christian teachings is:

NO IT DOES NOT MATTER.

The implications and conventional Christian teachings are severe; both would be punished in equal measure.

DOES THIS MAKE SENSE?

Something bothers me about this interpretation. Every force in our world has its opposite. For God, the opposite is the Devil. This is the ultimate antithesis, from whence diverge all the other opposites.

For good – evil , love – hate , reward – punishment , and the list goes on …

Talking of rewards and punishment … here a discrepancy unfurls …

My pastor, mum, all my religious mentors … they all have counseled me, at one time or another, that every person shall be rewarded according to the good he/she does in this world. There is nothing wrong with that. It makes perfect sense.

But why is the converse not true according to Christian teachings? All sinners will be thrown into a burning lake of sulphur! Hitler and the kid who got hit by a car while running from the mob, after lifting from a convenience store will suffer the same fate. I just find it hard to believe. In fact I do not think that is what the bible teaches. Take a look at the following verses:

I will recompense them according to their work and according to the doing of their hands (Jer. xxv. 14)

Jehovah, whose eyes are open upon all the ways of men, to give to every one according to his ways and according to the fruit of his works (Jer. xxxii. 19)

The Son of man shall come in the glory of His Father with His angels and then He will render unto every one according to his works (Matt. xvi. 27).

2 Corinthians 5:10 10For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things [done] in [his] body, according to that he hath done, whether [it be] good or bad.

Ecclesiastes 12:14 14For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether [it be] good, or whether [it be] evil.

Food for Thought: What do you make of heaven and hell ?

Coming up:

Of God and Money

Of the Origins of Creation