SONKO "sanctions" his daughter

Its one thing to be rich, and another to flaunt your wealth. However, flaunt the wealth that you legally own and have sweated for.

This statement can be well be depicted with the story behind "KEEPING UP WITH THE SONKOSHIANS" or the drama revolving between the Nairobi senator and his daughter. If you have not heard these gossip, the original narrator, AKA the chronicles continues or Vinniewatz will break the information down for you precisely.

Apparently, Saumu, sonko's daughter appeared on a local TV station despising socialites for their cheap publication. The senator's accused Kenyan alleged socialites to be tarnishing the real meaning of the word that refers to people from stable families. They say money can buy anything other than salvation.


Pride comes before a fall; Senator Sonko reiterated by grounding her daughter. He took the keys to the Mercedes Benz and cut her weekly allowance of 60,000 ksh. ouch, a person earns 60 geez for sitting her ass down and looking pretty. Mind you, this person is not paying bills, but Sonko was wise to say that he earned his money through sweaty means; hence, her daughter should not take advantage of the situation.


Pray your dad becomes a senator....

I am wrecked, broken and shaken
I am stressed, weaken and beaten
I am tossed, worn and torn
Made an outcast, i am now a heathen
I am now a reject,my esteem is now hidden
I am wrecked, broken and shaken

handles placed on my way
challenges on my way
people going astray
forcing me away
I am wrecked, broken and shaken

And now i rise up
with this desire
that will sire
much fire
in this empire
and no retire
i am wrecked, broken and shaken

I might be broken, but am not limping
i might be an outcast, but am not leaving
i might be a reject, but not a black-sheep
getting back on my knees, ready to move on

BEING TALKATIVE IS NORMAL

CHRONICLES CONTINUES...

Being talkative is human nature….

Introvert versus extrovert

“kierere” is a informal Swahili word that is used to refer to outgoing and socially imparted people in Kenya. The term is kind archaic and it does not ogre well with some people because they feel it is insulting and disrespectful. There are numerous proverbs and sayings that kill the morale of being a social, outgoing, and gregarious person and they include silence is more eloquent, speak only when it is necessary, you have two ears and one mouth so that you can listen twice and talk once, and still water run deep just to mention a few.

All this is CRAP!!!!!!! And I repeat that is a lot of bull s#^t, disputing how people were born and their constitutional, biological, biblical, social, communal and legal rights of speech is very wrong.

Now all the “kiereres” you can start clapping because I have decided to be your savior, activist, humanitarian, and free state lawyer to speak out your inflictions on your behalf. People always paint us as reckless people, who utter meaningless things and unorganized fellows. As the chairperson of “viereeres” we want to give you “HATERS” a perfect name to refer to us, EXTROVERTS. According to the biggest library under the sun (Wikipedia), extroverts are people with the social tendency of predominantly being concerned with getting gratification outside the self-person. Extroverts enjoy human interaction through being talkative, enthusiastic, assertive, aggressive, and by being energized when around other people. They find comfort around people, we like talking about ourselves to others, we love sharing knowledge and we are more prone to boredom when we are alone. We love being with friends, we do not hide feelings; hence, we are not hypocrites or those fake friends, frenemys.

Due to these facts, many people misjudge us, they talk ill about us in our absence, they point fingers at us when we pass by and we feel infuriated by these gestures. Ladies think we are womanizers because we have the courage to approach everyone; hence, they feel insecure being in our company. Teachers label us as failures who have lost direction and that we always talk trash. I remember going through hell in high school just because I joined Drama club because teachers felt we were failures.

On the other hand, we appreciate introverts, people who enjoy being alone and meditating on their own; people who love tranquility and suave-ambiance environment by themselves. When we poke or joke around you, kindly understand and move on with life. However, we also love this state at some point. Extroverts are not always talking, we need time to read, meditate, be emotional just like everyone, reflect about life, and concentrate on something. I get furious when people always ask me whether am sick any time they find me quiet. The same people, who complain that I am talkative, complain when I am quiet. Extroverts also need silence, they need a moment to pray, and practice yoga among other silence-oriented activities. It is an unfair world, but it is not kind to point fingers before understanding what life entails.

Extroverts make the best characters in the arts industry. We make the best Mcees, actors, rappers, players, best managers, marketers, and family people among many careers. We can adjust to any environment within a microsecond, we are slow to anger, and we do not suffer from psychological pressures and mental imbalance easily. Kierere is a way of life just like any other personality of life entails.

Kindly note; there is another dimension of human personality known as ambiversion. It incorporates both being an extrovert, introvert, and I strongly believe we are all ambiverts it only matters with the degree or the extent. Everyone can be both talkative and quiet but you cannot take one side permanently.  Next time you use those useless proverbs, kindly spare us dirty comments we are forever #teamviereere.

WHY MEN CHEAT "their women with beer"

1000 reasons why beer is better than women...

People say that men live for only three things; money, power and mmm aaa eee and beer. Yes beer and not women; although nowadays Wi-Fi has been included in the list. My dear skirts and trousers wearers allow me to unearth the secret why beer is better than women.

Njoki chege became a celebrity overnight for writing an article about “why men cheat.” Kindly my esteemed readers’ can you make me a celeb after exposing “why men cheat their women with alcohol.”

Chris Brown sang, “These girls aren’t loyal,” for real they are not. They make us endure hell on earth with their masquerading and camouflaged behaviors. I am a living witness, during my years as a campus “fresha”, here comes again the chronicles of a fresha, yea I was in “love” (Oh my God that was not love but using the word love in vain). A woman is yours the moment she is in your vicinity and that is not always the case because she can be chatting with another nigga in your presence. You just wonder how you are talking to a person for two minutes and she replies by a nod without even facing you.

My fresha’s year was full of frustration and I think most of you men go through these issues intrinsically. My purported girlfriend cited love words when we were together, she cuddled on my chest and caressed me publicly. As a result, I fell in love, oops sorry, in infatuation to an extend of bashing away other girls even from sitting close to me to avoid “cheating.” This lady controlled my life, she had to know where I am, with who, doing what, and when I will be back using which matatu. She dictated our chats, if I never replied to her text for two minutes that was a crime equated to poaching or even paying the Anglo-leasing scum. However, if she did not reply mine for even two days, I was not supposed to query or raise an alarm. To add insult to injuries, she kept visiting her cousin who lived in coast, but because I was in love, I never questioned. Later I learnt that she got married there… oops L L.

Am pretty sure a hoard of men experience this bumpy road of relationship though they try to mask their tribulations. You will see a man reluctant to go home after work because he knows the wife is Adolf Hitler. You will buy a whole kilogram of meat and in your plate, you will only be served with a number of bones, mayne you aren’t a dog! Men will burst out loudly in public places such as hotels, matatus, and even clubs and you might think they roar in their houses. Oh, unto you when you discover they are lip sealed in front of their better halves. We are tied in ropes that loosening them is quite impossible. Men if you know this is you please listen to me and do it keenly. We need a dialogue with alcohol; we need a national holiday for celebrating beer and giving back to the society because of the solace beer has offered us.

Ladies and gentlemen, here comes 1000 reasons why beer is better than women…

#1. Beer is never JEALOUS. You can take pilsner today, tusker tomorrow, try Jameson shot on a wedding day and mix with rum and beer will never complain “ati umeniplay.”

#2. Beer is always available, yes always at the counter. Women, gosh, tomorrow am going to salon, Monday shopping, Tuesday I will be sick, Wednesday I will be menstruating…psssh

#3. Beer has a price tag; therefore, you can plan on what to take for a month. On the contrary, women are like oil prices, they keep on fluctuating. Today out, tomorrow shopping, the next days a new weave; guys alcohol prices are manageable compared to women. 

#4. Beer never hides its feelings. Wow, I love this part, women will pretend never to have feelings for you but they have. Beer is very straight, if it is not cool with you, you have to puk it out, period. “kama haikutaki hues make.”

#5. Beer never plays hard to get, if you want a beer, ask your wallet and no more innuendos.

#6. Beer never uses make-ups or skin lightening; it is so natural that you know you are dealing with an original thing. Women, gosh, the person you take to lunch date is completely different from the one you will see after a swimming event. Fake face made up with pencils and crayons, horse’s hair, pigskin for handbags, one million piercing and so forth. 

#7. Beer never controls the remote. Yes, you will watch Nat-geo, Supersport and sci-fi movies comfortably while beer is offering you company. With women, be ready to watch soap operas and Niger movies and she expects you to be jovial discussing Alehandro with her, crap.

#8. Beer never FRIENDZONE the taker, friend zone is the worst man fear. It is a national disaster in the life of men. Beer never allows this to happen to a man, you order for it you have to drink it.

#9. Beer is never moody. I always wonder how women moods function. You can be happy with her for a while, but in the next minute, she has turned to be John Michuki (R.I.P), no nonsense. As for beer, any time is the happy hour.

#10. Beer has no parent-in-laws. Gosh if there something men fear, it is the girl’s parents. They irritate, they judge us for gangster, and they think that they gave us their girls free. Damn, we can do with alcohol alone.

#11. Beer does not contract unwanted pregnancies. You know the traps that every girl sets to her guy. “aki babe niko na boll”, beer simply replies “ipeleke kasarani ama brazil.”

The other 9089 reasons are coming soon. Keep it chronicles of a “fresha” at vinniewatz.blogspot.com

Chronicles of a "Fresha"....

Its NOT simple to order for a condom from the chemist.....

Most of the "fresha's" actions are based on hearsay and not all rumors are necessary correct.

It was this chilly evening that my friends and I decided to unwind by reveling in the city night clubs. For sure the week was quite stuffy, making the body to feel too weak to undertake any further task. It was an examination week and if you had a chance to attend any Kenyan college (excluding the village polytechnics and institutes)  you are aware of the hue and cry that surrounds the exam period. Therefore, a cocktail  of tequila (Kibao Vodka) shots, ice cube (small pieces of lemon), rum (hot water), and a puff of sheesha (sportsman cigarette) would aid in relieving the moods. Kindly note that we only took the drinks shown in brackets, "hiyo ingine ni kujichocha".

We gathered in a group of around 6 confused freshas who had a mutual agenda, to get drunk, period. Since we had staid in Nairobi for a while, we confidently walked to the city center chests up high with the aim of partying hard. Yes, people can party by taking Kibao Vodka or even Napoleon, thank God blue-moon was not invented by then, it sucks. In a few moments, we were comfortably seated in our seats in that stuffed up, congested backstreet wine & spirit pub that carries more people than the Daadab refugee camp. There was hullabaloo in the room as my fellow confused "freshas" jeered with a lot of ecstasy expecting the night to be so stimulating. Actually, our Kibao-tequila-Famous-Grouse Vodka didn't disappoint because within half an hour we were dancing to every tune telling everyone in the club (oops, pub) how we are great university students who will become presidents, engineers, doctors  et cetera after completing school; mind you, up to now i am still jobless (those were fresha's fantasy that died immediately after joining second year).

Eyes started clinging into one another, the focal view changed as objects appeared smaller than usual, the rate of stories and noise skyrocketed like Wajir's temperature. By the time we managed to take at least two 750ml bottles of liquor, or alcohol-meter was reading overflow (mututho was not yet born, i mean mututho the law not the bald individual). One brilliant-confused fresha came up with such an impeccable idea that we should switch clubs so that we may have more fun. Oh what a nice idea, i thought. This is the moment i was waiting for, to go to these downtown clubs with beautiful chicks, loud music, and quality fun.

Within a flash, we were strolling almost the whole town looking for a perfect joint; because we were dismissed from all the clubs we sort to enter due to feeble reasons such as one of the fresha is too drunk, lack of identity card or "kipande", useless utterances etc. This made us to walk almost around the whole town without success. I was already giving up the hustle when one of the clubs ushered us in to have the fun we were looking for. The bouncer frisked us and we all entered, but not until we parted with "rwabe" as in 200 shillings. Inside the club, there was no empty space; hence, we had to wait for people to visit the washrooms and snatch their chairs so that we could have places to seat. Due to the high alcohol content we had sipped earlier, just one bottle of beer was enough to cushion us for the rest of the night. (Although the waiters kept on checking our bottles regularly, but it did not help because we did not order for another one).

Music played, we stormed the dance-floor with all the traditional "ushago" dancing style that left other revelers perplexed. As the dancing climaxed, someone patted my shoulder. A composed fine girl BEGGED (yes she begged me) me for a dance and i obliged willingly. After, some exchange of moves and dancing styles we decided to seat down and know each other better. She was so intrigued in me and i had to man up and order her a drink at least to push the night. We conversed for a while (some of my friends were thrown out "juu ya kubleak" by now i did not care much about them)  and we prolonged to partying till dawn. That is how i consumed my university fees that i have not cleared up to now.

 When morning came, i begged her to accompany me to my one and only room A206, the slaughter house. To be sincere, i expected this lady to refuse, but she accepted without a second thought. "Is this a trap or a muhathara", i quarreled with my thoughts, but all in all we went straight to the hostels feeling quite exhausted. Due to the fatigue and failing to sleep the previous night, we went straight to the bed. As a man, nature calls enhe! ("rewind and come again Mr. selector") as i said, as a man these things are nature bound and you have to rise to the occasion and respond to the stimuli. Sleeping with a lady in the same bed is not taking a cup of tea. In the midst of our sleep i found my hands wandering all over her body, requesting to cross-examine her body temperature and check her obesity status. As i mentioned earlier, freshas acts on hearsay and rumors because i had heard that when you touch a girl she has to viciously denounced your behavior "yani akatae kabisa" until you force her the second to a zillion times. However, this girl of mine obliged amicably without any question.  I have to admit that i was a virgin, and i expected her to refuse, now see what trouble i putted myself into. I did not know how this process unfolds and now i was in total mess of lighting up  fire that i cannot extinguish, but as a man you have to survive.

One thing that rung in my mind immediately was protection, i don't want to impregnate her or get an STI, i consoled myself. But there was an option, oooo yeaa i remembered, a condom, yes a cd, but where was it to come from. Without seeking her consent, i sprung out of the bed and rushed to the chemist because "Nameless ana yake, je una yako" (if you remember this advert). Upon arrival, much trouble dawned on me. The place was crowded and i did not garner enough courage to ask for condoms. Any time the chemist attendant asked me, "customer unataka", i replied," malizia hawa kwanza." But after the other customers went and i was about to let the cat out of the bag, another customer appeared; hence, i changed my story "uko na dawa za malaria ama typhoid apa", i muttered. The chemist attendant smiled because she had already learnt that i was fearing to say something, that is when she boldly asked me whether i wanted to buy cds or condoms. Just imagine how i blushed, ate my nails, faced the opposite side, smiled shyly before giving a simple answer as yes i want condoms. Then she asked me what type and flavor that i was looking for, i switched to airplane mode like a mobile phone once again. Sincerely, i did not know the types or flavors other than the free-hospital condoms; so i was in total darkness and the chemist attendant had to intervene once again.

She made the choice for me and now i was confident that i was going to attend to the unfinished business. I paid confidently and rushed back to the slaughter house, room 4206, to slaughter someone...



The chronicles of a fresha continues shortly
Part 2, on the way