what kind of a parent will i be?

THE PARENT OF THE FUTURE

It is not a wonder when you meet a two year old kid who is well conversant with kissing and making out, ouch! reality hurts, but truth be told we are in the bewitched generation. This fact got me thinking of what kind of a parent i will be because this generation is quite sharp than we think. A TV advert saying that "nakufeel mpenzi wangu, ndio maana tuatendelea kutumia condom kila wakati". Suppose my future kid floated a question directed to me in a full packed living room with my in-laws and workmates, "Daddy condom ni nini na ni yakufanya, na mbona wanasema watafeel wakifanya?". you know those endless kids' questions. That is why i am getting ready with answers and i want to help you right now to salvage you from future embarrassment. kindly follow these well thought and thoroughly researched prompts...



1. EDUCATION SYSTEM with "SWAG"
 We need to accept the fact that we are in the era of technological advancement and no matter how you lie to the kid, Google will be there for him or her. Therefore, it is prudent to impact the kid with an education system that fits the current developments and that is why my house will never bear the learning charts of A for Apple B for Boy et cetera et cetera. However, this will be the official chart

2. TELL REALITY
 The Bible tells us to tell the truth and it will set us free, yes in deed, truth will relieve you from the psychological torture when you lie to your kid not to shower with her sister because ghosts will haunt him. NO NO no just tell him the truth that they are two unlike poles and unlike poles attract. I believe most of you are suffering because you are in the wrong profession that your parents forced you to engage in. "Ati" become an engineer, doctor, teacher, and such nonsense, for me i categorically denounce such misleading advises and this is how i will tell my son and daughter. "Please son, become an internet hacker, hack a bank account and we will rake millions or even become a controversial blogger (who doesn't know Robert Alai and Njoki Chege), and you my beautiful daughter, kindly become a socialite, post your nudes on instagram and on twitter, bleach (oops skin light) and believe me darling you will date an oil tycoon, just ask Vera Sidika."


3. GENEROSITY
It is sad when i see my dad being served the best meal and the right quantity in the house, as we share a plate with my sister. Too bad to understand why we will collect eggs when the chicken lays during the day for Dad to come in the evening and have it in his meal solely. The moral lesson will be "mtoto akililia wembe mpe". Even when i am reading a "porn" magazine, it is good to share knowledge; hence, i will be extra generous to share. If mom is pregnant i will courageously explain the process of making her pregnant.

4. DRESS CODE
I believe most of you have been in a cross road with your parents for trying to pull out latest fashion in town. When ladies started wearing trousers it was such a degrading act and a bitter pill for parents to stomach. But look at it now, a street fashion trend, they later learnt to live with it. And that is why i will tell my daughter, "darling, by the way Rihanna has discovered a new outfit, do you mind trying it out?"....

5. OUT
Last but not least, taking kids for a day out. For me, no to Uhuru park, animal orphanage, museum or this boring recreation parks. My kids of the future will learn to go to Skyluxx, Cubano and Applebees at a very young age. They must be exposed to the world to understand how life is all about. No reading of kids story books, but magazines such as Drum and parents.
 Finally follow my advice at your own risk...
@vinniewatz

Chronicles of a "Fresha" continues...

You can take a "Fresha" out of high school, but you cannot drive the "high-s-coolness" out of him.

Believe it or not, high school swag and cognitive behavioral aspects still mandated my first year in college. I was the most punctual person when it came to meals, refusing to shave because you want an Afro-hairstyle (anyway for me it was due to lack of money to shave), sharing those nuisance, cliche stories that you think its funny, but you end up laughing alone and that sort of things. One of the thing i was not accustomed to was the freelance intermingling with ladies or the people of opposite gender. Ladies made my pubic hair to coil underneath the pants in embarrassment and experiencing a difficult time like learning how to speak Khoisan. This lady Phobic behavior can be traced way back to primary school; as i have always said i hail from the deepest side of "ushago" where we are still receiving the provision results of general e"r"ection today. One day my dad decided to save an array of coins to buy me a gift because he promised to buy me something if i became number one in class as he did say he became  in his yester years. Although i always doubted how many number ones his class had because my mother and my friend's father were classmates and they always told me (separately) that they topped their class. Never mind, i became number one with a high rated performance in the village of 35%, if you convert the total marks into percentage. As promised my dad arrived in such a melancholy mood that brightened my soul. Usually, his arrival announced that i should go to sleep immediately or it meant punishment time for the day's mistake. He passed on a black polythene paper bag and said "this is your gift son."I smiled opening it, but i changed my facial expressions immediately i saw what was inside, he had bought me shoes instead of something worth like a loaf of bread or the little bottle of juice. Shoes brought shame in our school because everyone was barefooted and the rest of the school could assemble to see this kid with shoes laughing at you like they have seen an alien. I became the school laughing stock. As a result, i opted to be removing them immediately i reached the school parameter and put them back on when i arrived our gate to avoid my parents' wrath.

Back to ladies, during assemblies, boys lined up on one side and girls on the other side; however, joining that line was like putting hot charcoal on my toes. How could i intermingle with a girl, it was such an embarrassing thing for me to stomach. Fortunately or unfortunately (it depends with your morals ), i carried this behavior to college. The first year in college comprised of various combined classes where people from different classes conglomerated in one class for a single lesson or subject. During one of such classes, the desks happened to fill out before everyone found a place to sit. Therefore, the comrade power rule applied where each sort his or her friend to squeeze out a space to accommodate him or her. When i looked up, i met with a face of this lovely girl with a huge smile like the song bird "Ameelina", who decided that because my sit was small and we could not squeeze, she had to sit on my laps. "Sema nyama kwa nyama" (thats the chinese way of saying she was a bright girl) Lap to lap, ass to the "d"-partment, waist to waist, when she turned it was face to face, when she tilted a friction occurred, if she slid rubbing the "d"-partment, fire lit!. Oh my Oh my,,,, that was baa..a..a.d,, no it was indeed gooood,, ouch it was a punishment,,,a baa,,ad idea, actually, it was a tantalizing, an arousing feeling, a nice experience of warm, juicy, colorful ("rangi ya thao") piece of flesh sitting on me. Her sitting allowance matched the Mpigs salaries because she was blessed with a bright future (I call the sitting apparatus future because the one who carries them never sees them just like we do not see our future). Wow what a feeling, i could write notes no more, my concentration was no more, my blood pressure was also no more (because the entire blood cling ed into one place)

I went mteja...my emotions clinched to a single nerve that goes straight to the urethra. Due to the stimuli, the reaction response was inevitable because i could now see the girl some inches above the see level. "Mayne," don't blame me but where i came from. The instances you saw a lady in high school were reduced to zero probability and the ones you saw were these old female teachers who had taught even my parents. By now i was desiring to eat food filled with kerosene to calm my erect stature just like in high school. My eyes were strolling inside her bare chest, my tongue was off the hook singing the lyrics to the song, "please excuse my hands." I went on to undress her after she excused my hands in my mind, i employed this kind of a mouth watering look expressed by the president of #TeamMafisi himself McJessy. My palms were sweaty and my body filled with goose pimples all over; my breathing rate changed and my heart pounded like those of the Olympic athletes on action.

The situation worsen when the girl tilted to gain a comfortable state so that she can write comfortably. "Oh God, Am in", i whispered as i closed my eyes like a "luhyia man" chewing sugarcane mercilessly. Things were happening fast in mind because i had finally managed to undress her top and my arms were roaming uncontrollably. The only remaining thing was to be a man and bring her down to the mood, to cause an ecstatic feeling that will gush her towards me and do it.

 I was about to do it when i heard a loud Horace shriek from a grown man say "Young man, are you obsessed by demons." Good Lord!, it was the lecturer who had been spying on me and directed the entire class to watch me as i hallucinated like the Mombasa kids while high on brown sugar. I was day dreaming and practicing the dream in reality that I even felt a soak feeling in my pants and everyone who had been looking at me burst-ed into this loud laughter that shook the walls. The lady looked at me with these weird eyes that made me walk out of the class embarrassed, but the lecturer called me back making fun of me. I swear being a fresha is the toughest thing that you can go through.
 

The final part..Being a Fresha..season finale

"Hey Roomie, its tomorrow" I said confidently. He just nodded facing the opposite direction, i wasn't sure whether he had heard me or he was just ignoring me. After all i am a fresha so he can choose to answer me or just ignore. The day kicked on slowly, everything dragged starting with classes, rehearsals, meals, everything was just in such a sluggish pace. In fact, lessons were the worst, even the teacher to me looked like a girl, "sema kuchora giza." My mind was bombarded with illusions of this kind of a beautiful lady, carrying cupid arrow, aiming straight at my heart, ready to fall in love with me, go to bed with me, and live with me happily thereafter (if you remember the ogre primary-school stories). This was the perfect revenge i could give my roommate. "I have spent out for days, he will spend for weeks, i will be kissing this lady every time he shows up into the room", i  told myself with such a nonchalant smile. I  was in a melancholy mood that my feelings were oozing profusely, due to the thought of a person  i have not yet met. Since i could not hide my joy, i proceeded to tell my friends in class how i am expecting a bigger day than the promulgation of the constitution. "Eish, this guys hate me, hawanitakii", that's was my response after a small banter with my "homies."

"Unajua madame wa FB vile hukua fake, me kwanza nilimeet na mmoja nikidhani ni Mrs. Kenya, but kile kilitokea, heh, ata si kiatu, boss ilikua ni gumboot", blurted one of my friends.

"Kwanza wao hua ma sugar mummy wanategea tuboys watumisuse", said another.  I had heard of such stories but i was convinced beyond doubts that it could not happen to me. "Wengine ata ni watu wa Nigeria wanatafuta watu wakutoa sacrifice". What argggggg!!! I can't listen to any of these ill-informed statements by people who are only envious to my lingering  opportunities. "wananisikilia tu wivu", i consoled myself.

Later in the evening i hardly concentrated on anything. All my emotions, visions, illusions, confusion, notion, conviction  (oops! i just rhymed "nasiringi") were embedded to this wonderful queen i was suppose to meet. Dreams that night were all directed to meeting her and having a sumptuous moment with her, probably bed her. Yea i just said it, bed her, based on the exposure from my roommate and the half-naked classmates, my emotions were skyrocketing as days passed by. I had sworn to do anything in my power to ensure that i see the color of her inner-wears beside me. The night did me a great favor because after tossing for a few hours juggling within several romantic dreams, it was morning, again. I woke up to the reality that this was the day that i am supposed to meet my senorita, my secreto de amor, and within a flush of a moment, i gushed to the bathrooms hurriedly. Should I take a bath twice, brush my teeth with two brushes, or borrow shoes and a new shirt (that's too high-school so i discredited it). what should i do to ensure that i am the most noticeable person in town? Mind you i had cleaned my clothes with Toss because their adverts says washing clothes with Toss makes you noticeable. Events unfolded quite fast, time rushed, as emotions engulfed my innocent self. We took breakfast with everyone else, but i announced that i would not be attending any of the classes that day.

"Sasa wewe hyo date yako ya saa nane na dame wa Fb ndio inafanya uhate daro ya saa mbili", one of the friend jeered. It was embarrassing but seriously we were to meet in the afternoon and  classes were starting as early as 8, why was i intending to miss classes. Anyway, i decided to attend the first two lessons, and by the way, our college was situated at the heart of CBD; hence, it was easier for me to meet her from that point. I borrowed different kinds of body sprays, applied roll-on, ditched my usual Valon oil and applied Nivea for men lotion for the first time. I strongly believed the phrase that says, "when i am smart, I am more than confident." The mixture was too much to get a distinct smell; hence, the concoction ended up smelling like a goat's pee. Never mind, i was still glamorous and feeling very confident to meet even Queen Elizabeth leave alone Beyonce or any other socialite.

After the classes, i could not waste any other minute, greeting me on the road was wasting my precious time as i was headed to a much important event in my life. By midday i was at our meeting place, despite the fact that the date was meant to commence at 2. I told myself that keeping time is the key to unlocking her heart, to me our date was much important than a job interview. I smiled at every passer-by almost asking them whether they noticed how smart i was  and who i was going to meet. Haiya, it's already 1 p.m.. let me call her and know her whereabouts. I confidently flushed my phone out of the pocket, rolled my shirt sleeves, dialed the number, cleared my throat, licked my lips, smiled a little bit, changed my standing gait and made a romantic posture, changed my voice and pressed the call button (yea a button, touch screens were only in the movies by then). Then i had this kind of a reply from the receiving end, "tafadhali mteja wa nambari uliyo piga, hapatikani kwa sasa". oh oh oh oh my goodness, never, this is a mistake, no this "mteja lady is only playing with my psychology, she cannot be out of service", i convinced myself. I dialed the number for the 100th time even the phone started suggesting that i should be patient, but the response was still the same after dialing once again. Tears cascaded my cheeks in disbelief, my emotions overwhelmed my strength, my posture collapsed, my energy flopped, "how could she do this to me", "how will i explain to my friends, what transpired." Anyway mwanaume nikujifanya". I dragged my now lazy body to a nearby county council"s resting seats and flopped like a heavy bunch of Eldoret maize  from a crowded lorry carrying numerous sacks of charcoal. Thoughts whirled through my wits wondering what had just happened. "she could have told me a day before, although i could not have agreed, that she will not make it". I sat there for more than an hour just contemplating on what had just happened, looking extremely sad, almost crying, looking extremely desperate.

At 3 p.m i was still on the same seat feeling dizzy, sleepy and unwilling to answer anybody let alone my own phone or even my favorite Facebook messages. I heard my phone receive a text message, but i was too weak to answer. "these are my friends asking how the date is progressing, and i don't wanna talk to anyone", i told myself, so i ignored the text completely. 15 minutes later, my phone was ringing profusely that i forced myself to answer. Holy shot (i didn't say what you expected you ill-minded person), thank God its her, i started shaking as i answered the call, my hands were wet and my words disappeared completely. And the way i had vowed to talk dirty to her if she even dreams of calling me, i had sworn to call her all the nasty words i knew, but the strength of a woman worked magic, i obediently answered the call. I found myself calling her babe, apologizing as if i was the one who had wronged her. She promised to be there in a minute and gave me a thousand excuses, although i never bothered, why she was off. Within a few minutes, she arrived, dressed in these flowery dressed that combined all the colors you could think it is a "peter marangi's" advert or "Masaku 7s, akamba fans". To make it clear, she was beautiful to the eyes of a "fresha", coz, at this age and stage i can never try to say that that is what is called beauty, but just a poor imitation. She had this funny hairstyle, where she had shaved her hair like the 1980s old swag, i bet she inspired Lupita Nyong'o. Her walking style was kinda wobbly because the legs looked like they were criss-crossing each other. She had applied too much make-up to identify her original skin color, her nails were unkempt (i later learnt that they are called artificial nails, i thought she had refused to trim her nails for quite a while, "ufresha nayo"). On a positive note, she gave me these warm hug, squeezing me between her breasts that i closed my eyes emotionally, she sandwiched her legs in mine (guess what happened to me there downstairs), her arms were allover me until i felt ticklish, i started getting shy, what are we doing in-front of all these people, gosh this is being manner-less (i thought).


Anyway, straight to business of the day. This is the time i realized that  i had not done my homework well, i had no idea what hotel we would be going for our sumptuous date. oops, i had tripped, but my creative nature deceived me to request her to suggest her place of choice. The place she suggested i am quite sure  i cannot pronounce the name even now because it sounded french, it was actually french. But in my quench to get laid on our first date, i obliged, and we walked hand in hand to the eatery point. To my amusement, the place was well decorated, well lit, comfortable couches (i was used to hotels with timber seats just dug straight to the ground, or a ken-poly plastic chair for the most expensive eatery point i have ever been to) and it clearly meant that this was an expensive place. The interior decor symbolized the exquisite guests around, i can guarantee you that we were the only awkward people around, especially me. This is when i remembered my roommate's advice, money. OMG i had only carried 1 thousand Kenyan shillings, actually that was the only money i had for the entire semester. My "fresha" mind had guaranteed me that 1  k was quite huge amount of money, actually if you convert it to Zimbabwean money you will get tired of counting the zeros. After pulling the chair for her (as advised by roommate), we sat down in jovial mood that shown our expectations. "Hii dame ushakula" my mind deceived me once again. To me, this was a finished game, it was time to take revenge by sending my roommate to exile. The waiter came and with this humble voice requested for our orders. Ladies first  (following the advice), and you will take mine later, i said. My friends, the name she uttered, even Google would stumble finding it, oeufs en meurrete cousine. That is when i smelled a rat. What the hell was that, i expected "respectable" meals such as "CNN yani chapati na ndengu" or "ugali omena". Sweat broke immediately, i tried to force a smile, but it was so hard to make it. I closed one eye like a person trying to release a fart without being noticed then it comes out so loudly. Imagine what was brought on the table, a handful of poached eggs, soaked in red wine and some pepper wrapped with something made of wheat, i don't care knowing its name. The waiter said to me, "your order, boss," "the menu please" i replied. The main purpose of  requesting for the menu was to study the prices of the oeufs en meurrete and not the meals. To my amusement, it only costed, imagine only, very little, just a few coins (i hope you understand i am being sarcastic) 1200 bob. Such little food that looked like it was meant to food-poison a rat costed that mush. To add wounds to injuries, she ordered for a glass of wine.That translated to approximately 1500 bob, that was my lunch money for the entire month at our usual joint. I calmly requested the waiter to leave as i would be making my order in a few minutes, later.


At this juncture, she tried calling me babe, but i could here none of her words.My thoughts were glued on the next thing to do. I sent a quick text message to one of the classmate, "hi, dude urgently send me 1k am in a hot mess right now, explain later," he replied, "in class let me see after the lesson." "Hi babe, aren't you eating", she inquired. I looked for a lie that would convince her to no avail. "eehee..aaa..mmmm..nlikua..ee.. kuna..viii..choo ziko wapi" i finally spat out. "ati washroom, do you want to run away?" she said jokingly. "no babe", i answered in a confused face. Actually that was my idea but the loos were situated strategically such that you could not escape unnoticed. But since i had requested, i proceeded to the loos. Now i was more than shaking, making numerous calls and the answer was the same, "manze sina dough sai". I spent more than 15 minutes there with no aid from anyone. I finally composed myself, went back to the seat, thinking of a plan B. "Hey babe c umekaa loo, no wonder hukua unataka kukula, but na hope sai uko fine, make order basi", as if she was the one paying. I text-ed my friend once again and now he replied "mayb nifike kwa room nchukue i send you". That meant i wait for another two to three hours, how would i buy such time. The waiter was approaching to take my order for the third time now. Boss what are you taking, he requested, ee kuna M-pesa apa karibu, i asked, apa tu nje kwa doorstep, he replied in a smiley face.

"Ok, babe lemmi withdraw money apa down i kam, make yourself comfortable, and please ku unanisaidia kumake order", i said as i walked towards the door. I scrolled my phone for a zillion time now. Messages to calls, settings and games, the old snake xenzia, within a flash of a second my phone was off. I walked as fast, actually i run, without looking behind, a car almost run over me as i run for my dear life. I was now panting profusely as i walked straight to the hostel. My room  number, A206, was ringing in my mind. Upon my arrival, i disconnected my phone i removed even the simcard, changed my Facebook account, because i thought she would trace me, that was the only way i felt a bit relieved.

That is how my relationship with my lover was short-lived, my revenge mission was aborted, my dreams of getting laid died, and i was now a disappointed man. But on a positive note, i had saved my 1k as it was meant to last me for a month or more than that. That is how i was friend-zoned by illusions, and "ufresha mob", not by a girl.



The chronicles of being a fresha continues though that marks the end of season 1...

The Chronicles of Being A "Fresha" continues

Guys I am friendzoned!!!!! I must end this relationship!!



If you have been following the chronology flow of the unfortunate things that we go through during our first year in college, then you know why i choose that topic. They say spirit of a hustler and swagger of a college kid, no I beg oooo!!, you are a moomoo (i also do not know what it means, i have heard it in "oga" movies) if you believe that, it should be the swagger of a hustler (Ruto, Rick Ross are all hustler) and the spirit of a college kid to well define my "Fresha's" years. My roommate begun to become such a nuisance, but i remained lip sealed to protect "our friendship". Mind you we had some level of friendship because i could borrow his phone to log into Facebook. For those who are wondering,  I joined college when Facebook was the hottest swag in town; unfortunately, my phone was the ones bought for the purpose of storing energy (remember am fresh from shagz) and not applications, "cjui" sleek color, "ati" android,,"ooo" music store,,, no no no, the best mobile phone was the one that could store power and receive network from the hilly part of our village, nothing more, plus the financial constraint; actually, we heard of Android Apps barely an year afterwards. A206 was the room where we spent most of the hours after classes. it became a norm to borrow my roommate's phone so that i can "enter" Facebook. I could see from his facial expressions that he was not comfortable with the idea, but he didn't complain knowing that he would send me to "exile" for a whole week. For those who do not know what is exile it means be sent out of the room so that your roommate can have cuddling, rubbing, lips-locking, you name it moments with his partner in warmth while you spend sharing a single bed the four of you.

This Facebook thing became a trend way before Larry Madowo. One day as i was scrolling through my inbox, guess what i found? Now you are waiting for me to tell you and i just asked you to guess. Anyway because i know you are so lazy to think, let me just tell you, i found a message (what else can you find in your inbox). However, this was quite a peculiar message that made my wandering eyes stand erect like the first day i saw Vera Sidika,,, no no no i hate her, i meant the first day i saw my account credited with some few coins. Anyway, this message came from a certain name that automatically drew my attention, i had never felt this special, appreciated, acknowledged, loved Oh My God i could not believe that this message was directed to me. A message that will make each one of you be envious and wish that they were not me. Firstly, I was used to chatting with my immediate high school boyfriends, so getting a message from a girl was such a blessing. But the fact that it was a girl did not mesmerize me like the content in the message. Imagine this "ushago" boy, without a profile picture on his timeline, receiving this beautiful, well intention-ed message that read, "Hae". Yes! the message only read, "hae", that is why i said you will wish that you are not me, but who cares. I guess you all wrote composition in primary school because that is how i can only express my joy: i was as a happy as a king trembling like a chameleon on a banana leaf. Leave that alone, it was a the most inundating message that left me all but dumbfounded. I replied the Facebook message with a lot of expectations, jubilation and sincere love in my heart.

They say a long journey starts with a single step; damn, i am a living witness because our inbox-ing became a living style. We started having this kind of messages that left me shy despite the fact that we were chatting with a person who is ingmiles away. Soon or later we transferred our messaging to mobile phone, thanks to the "Yu" network for offering free calls. Yes, it started, i would rather miss a class than miss her call. She made me feel elevated beyond my standards, I was always in the mood of extending my lips towards hers, arms towards thighs, and everything i owned could be hers. However, we had not met physically, this was just but the highest level of fantasy. I was in love with her, do not wonder how, but we were in love online. Our feelings could not be hidden anymore, we had to do something, we had to meet physically. After planning for a date, i frequently visited my roommate to equip me with skills and how to behave on our date. One of the thing that he kept telling me was that, Vinnie please be equipped with enough money. "500-1k would be enough i told myself", but what i experienced when we met,,, wait for part four....




+vincent murimi

vinniewatz: want fun in Kenya: KENYA NATIONAL THEATER

vinniewatz: want fun in Kenya: KENYA NATIONAL THEATER: In Kenya end month means its salary time so every club is packed with people "baptizing" their salaries. It sounds good to go and ...

Being a "Fresha" in Campus.. part two

As i Said earlier,,,,
the person who invented this fresha thing should be stoned to death, resurrected, then shot five bullets on the head until he is sent to coma, after recuperating, slashed with blunt machetes that my grandma used to say "ati" they are as blunt as the ones used to circumcise a warthog (how true that is, only her knows).

"Kijana, umpewa room", the dean asked; sincerely, is that a question to ask a mature man like me, a man with two grown balls and hairy armpits. He is the one suppose to issue me with the room and he asks such childish questions. Anyway i had to answer, am a fresha, who cares, though i answered with a folded face until he lamented "kijana unawekea nani sura ya kazi na haujajiriwa" ooooo... oh there is no difference between a "fresha" and a "mono", both are school wheelbarrows that can be pushed by anyone, even the cooks. Listen here "kijana" you are suppose to behave here because there is no mother of yours here (in spite of the dholuo accent and incorrect grammar i still wondered why he kept referring to me as kijana, can i ever become a msichana). Time was not on our side so he had to rush the prolonged paper work from my fees receipts, registration and admission forms, class 8 leaving certificate (was it necessary anyway), and meal card (the most important thing to a student, no matter the level of learning, food is still an issue of contention for a student). After performing all those rituals, too many than a circumcision ceremony, i was released to go and surrender in my room A206, i vividly recall the number. With a lot of jubilation knowing that i am a fully admitted university student (actually the first one in the village, so you can imagine the pride "maringo nayo") i gushed out with a speed that can only be compared with Germans goals against Brazil or a man going to an M-pesa agent after receiving money from a wrong number. After quite a walk, approximately 100 meters within 10 seconds (so if i train i can be competing with Rudisha and Bolt, but my name betrays me "i am not a kale), my joy was short lived, i stood with an upright gait, perplexed, confused just like a boy when he receives a text from his lover saying "baby we need to talk", boy run. Hahaha please join me at laughing at myself, seriously, where was i going, i didn't have a snippet clue of where the hostel were located. "GFF yani ngai fafa", i had to goo back to the unruly dean once again, the door was already shut; hence, i knocked viciously.

Oh My gracious Lord, i have never seen such bulgy eyes, the size of full moon, glare at one object for a long time. I freaked out! I trembled, shaking yawa. Imagine (with a luo accent), the full moon was the dean's eyes while i was the object being observed. "kijana (one again he called me that) shida yako ni nini"

"hizo hostel ziko wapi, sir", i stammered. "ziko South B", he replied."South B iko pande gani" i asked with my shriek voice wishing i was Ben 10 or superman so that i can swallow this giant of a man alive. Gosh this guy was huge, why didn't he look for another job like a club bouncer or he become a punching bag. "wewe kijana una ujinga sana, hujui South B ama umekuja Nairobi leo, nyinyi watu wa ushago mmechanganikiwa sana, fuata bara bara inateremka apo railways utaona men's hostel."

 Good Lord, this man just embarrassed me in-front of a hoard of people, just humiliated me, belittled my ego and pride. I have never felt this embarrassed, what had i done to him to deserve such scolding like a dog when it takes your food. Anyway, "mwananume nikujifanya" so i pretended to be OK, and faced the direction as instructed with a lot of courage but deep inside i was as empty as Nairobi on #SabaSabaday. However, this was the start of the end of my tribulations. Mind you, people were carrying huge suitcases, bags, they were brought by family and friends, to them it was a really initiation of good life. Vinnie on the other hand was directly opposite of that, a small bag-pack that i had bought while at high school, so you can imagine one strap was torn so i had to hold the bottom of the bag with one hand to maintain the balance. It had three clothes, tissue paper (you now know why i was excited when i got a meal card), and some little paraphernalia. Actually i didn't know what a person should report with as i told you i was the first to attend campus in the village so i had nowhere to borrow some advice. I was absolutely alone and it was getting dark. Fear of the unknown, i don't know where i am going, i had heard stories of how people are stolen at Nairobi when dusk falls. My inner-self told me to run, but the other conscience told me to stop thinking like a high school kid, I am in University so i must display maturity. So i walked chest up-high, looking at everyone with a lot of pride, almost telling them, "nko campus mta do", but i held on to that thought. After walking for almost thirty minutes, i had not seen anything like Kenya Poly Men Hostel. How now, have i already passed the place or have not reached. A brilliant idea clung me, stop a PSV and board until you arrive. "uniekee hostel na usinipitishe please", i commanded the conductor. Surprisingly, the reply was umefika, aaiii, how fast? I was actually two minutes to the place, but 'Ufresha made me board a matatu".

Quickly after getting a room the next thing was to take a cold, freezing shower to delude the fatigue and exhaustion. The room had two occupants and the other guy was not in, but i could see something that looked like ladies shoes. Was i sharing a room with a lady, ah that's non of my business, so i continued to remove my dirty clothes and wore a short (the "see-through" shorts given to monos in high school). After close to 5 minutes the door was wide open and shut immediately, after i turned... oh oh oh my good self, a voluptuous, deluxe, woman who qualified to become a socialite before Vera Sidika spoiled the profession. She only had a small towel round her waist barely covering the breasts and the thighs were all outside for me to enjoy the view. Abomination!!! Chineke!!this is treason, i dont wanna say it, but let me go on. She just said sasa and proceeded to change her bra and wear panties in my presence. A naive boy from shags is being introduced to porn live, i hurriedly turned on the opposite side covering my eyes wishing this devil never appears to me again. Ghafla Bin Vuu, his boyfriend, my roommate, came and without noticing me, he kissed the girl deeply. I can longer explain how offended i felt because this was unacceptable to my eyes little did i know it will soon become a trend, kwenda exile nayo. "Ufresha continued to sumbua", i laid on the bed waiting for a bell for supper. Gosh that is how i missed my first three meals, i was used to a system where the bell controls everything. aaii. this was too unfortunate because even my roommate didn't care simply because he had a girlfriend....

Ni sawa tu, pamoja tuangamize  ufresha,,, in case you need part 3 and the last,, show your love by commenting and following my page #sniffa twitter handle @vinniewatz my blog vinniewatz.blogspot.com

Being a "Fresha" at Campus

Was i confused or was the system confusing...

Being a fresha is one of the most disgusting thing ever introduced to humanity, why lie. Straight from my home digs, AKA., "ocha" i was headed to Nairobi with no single clue of what the city looked like. But to tell you the truth, i had visited Nairobi before, but in the most uncomfortable, disgusting, and humiliating way ever. Do you remember in high school, yea that rural high school where guys from Nairobi bombarded you with stories of how the city looks like, how cool it is, beautiful ladies, jam session, pimped "mathree", and all that nonsense (actually Nairobi's life is not cool, they lied to us). This made my appetite to visit Nairobi city grow day by day. Therefore, anytime we went for a trip maybe to the national museum, orphanage, and even Uhuru Park (we thought it was kind of a national park) we tried to squeeze our faces out through the old high-school bus windows to get a snippet view of town as the "Nairobi guys" boasted how they knew all the routes we passed through (i was envious by then). That was my trip to town prior to coming here to seek "further education", which has not helped me up to today, but gave me unlimited expectations. Although it has helped me to learn how to work under pressure, you know how we could waste the whole semester and revise for exams within a day.

Anyway, back to the fresha story that i guarantee you that it is the most embarrassing moment i have experienced, you too, i know. Upon arrival to Nairobi, my mind cascaded and whirled like 3 dimension videos on the sci-fi movies as i contemplated the new wave of life outside my shags. OMG i have never seen such tall storey buildings in my life given that the tallest building in our village is some mud houses we constructed for "burning tobacco" (that a story for another day). I was perplexed to see a green, healthy, likely to bear fruits, tall, a tree with a shade, conspicuous (i forgot the order of adjectives so any can be placed anywhere, just forgive me for now) building, which is the Afya center. "How can a building be so green, this must be a tree," i thought to myself. I proceeded to the college environs, at least i could recall the directions that i was given back at home, but believe you me those were the worst ever directions to follow, if at all you know where you are going. Imagine somebody telling you, "after you alight the "matatu" at tea room (Our stage), you "climb" up via Accra road, and see, a yellow yellow building (which i learnt later it is called Kenya archives), after reaching the yellow yellow building, face in-front and see a building called KICC, at least i had seen it on our high school trips. The next instructions were, "walk towards KICC, and upon arrival face on your left, and head straight until you see a road called haile sellasie. By now you know where i was headed to, The Kenya Polytechnic University, but it is now Technical University of Kenya, thanks to his excellency Mwai Kibaki. Although the directions were awkward, i still arrived because they say the end justify the means.

At the gate, what i say my mouth  just opened wide automatically, skimply dressed ladies and guys wrapping the ladies waist like they wrap meat at the butchery. Since  i was told that is prostitution and indecency, i wished that this guys could realize themselves (not knowing it was a matter of days before i joined the wagon). Another wonder of the world, i had never seen an influx of such people using one terminal at the same time. People were coming and going out and caused a heavy traffic at the gate. My high school minded thoughts told me that it was lunch time, people had been released for lunch, but it was at 3 in the evening. I started getting worried, this people go for lunch this late, will i survive, why don't their time table be changed. Little did i know in campus you can walk in and out any time and there was no specific time-table to govern the whole institution. I staid outside the gate for one hour waiting for a bell to ring allowing people in, but to my amazement, it never rung. Now i am confused, should i go in or not, do they have a discipline master like in the high school who might get me wandering aimlessly and pour down his wrath on me. After a battle of wits, i decided to go in "roho juu", but i walked cautiously and viewed every person  as a very mature and well-behaved person (which i learnt later it is not true, they are just a bunch of hypocrites who can sterilize the whole city when they cause chaos). A gulf of fear bombarded me until i released a little fart closing my eyes bitterly so that nobody notices, yes it is good for self-confidence and releasing tension. "hi, please, kindly show me the administration office", i asked a stranger trying to be very courteous; however, he replied with this kind of jeer that i found to be disturbing "oooo wewe ni fresha, thats why huwezi ona admin iko apo nyuma yako". It was uncouth but to be sincere, how did i fail to notice that long Que that almost reached the gate, ufresha utaniua, and the huge placard reading new students should Que here. Judging with the length of that Que, even the proverb a long journey starts with a single step, could not convince me to join it. After a little consultation, i learnt that it was headed to the dean's office where rooms were being issued. Hell broke loose, i have nowhere else to sleep other than the school rooms so i had to join them of course i couldn't beat them. OMG this long Que, long-lasting paper works and the solar, i had to do something. I had staid there for two hours, it is nearing 6:30, the offices are being closed and i have no idea where else i can sleep. I had to think quick, and quick thinking i did. I had finished learning in a high school whose mantra was scramble for the fittest, especially when serving meals because we made such long, pressing, and disturbing cues. Based on this vast experience, i had to do something with an immediate effect.


A whirl of thoughts gushed into me and within a micro-second, i was chatting with the security man at the door. "Soldier mimi nilikua kwa line apa tu, but juu ya kizunguzungu nikakaa chini pale kando, ni ruhusu niingie ni vile mi hukuwa na asthma". i simply feigned a disease to get a gate pass to the dean's office. Yes my plan succeeded, but the dean was not the most friendly person you would wish to meet... (to be continued)

vinniewatz: The never end story

vinniewatz: The never end story: I wish it never happened i wish it never ended and the way we blended i never thought it would come to a stand still giving me this kind...