Of a Spiritual Quandary ...

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.

A shit post ...

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

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

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 ...

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 ....

Basic Rule of Thumb ...

1. 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 …
   
2. When the said object waits until you are just about to sleep, to do the said whizzing, you know you are nocturnally fucked …
   
3. 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 …

Finally ...

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!