CHRISTMAS THE KENYAN WAY, where corruption starts

I was having an evening banter with a certain lady over a cup of coffee and she made some intriguing remarks that triggered my brain cells into jolting this down. She was telling me how its a hot season for ladies with a "focus."
Her two cents, if a lady can manage to date Waiguru's son, Wetangula's son, Wambora (Coincidentally, all these names start with a W, and the lady's name was Wanjiru or Shiru if you like) or any-other politician mentioned in a corruption saga would be like killing a bird with two stones. The lady asked me, " If Waigurus pen cost more than 8, 000 Kenyan shillings, how much do you think his son will spend on your underwear leave alone shoes, millions bruh." She whispered as she concluded her statement.

The Pope was here recently, he taught us some virtues and values that we can embrace to achieve a better country. But Kenyans are good at listening and doing completely the opposite.

CHRISTMAS,...this word sounds beautiful from the young to the elderly, it is a festive season when we gather around, have fun and celebrate, but how does it really go down in Kenya.

 #1. Prices go up tremendously by what business experts will call making super normal profits, just because its Christmas. Conductors are demigods, they charge transport prices as we if we are going to heaven. Gikomba second hand clothes retailers sell their commodities at a higher price just because it is Christmas. These are just few examples, liquor is sold the same price as diamond...

#2. People visit up-country once in a year, pimped with Nairobi swag trying to show Ushago people how backward they are. Wait a minute, you have not been home for a year, but you go there for show off, with a hired car lying to people its yours, a new suit that is only worn for occasions, and shopping that is meant to scare people as you flash out Nakumatt paper bags in a place where even Naivas has not reached. Stupid enough, this kind of a guy gives orders at home, commands everyone, and even disorients the timetable at home as he wants to be treated as VIP....SHINDWE...

#3. Watu wa kuomba ten bob wakiona mtu wa Nairobi... Who told my Ushago people that money grow on trees in Nairobi? When they hear that you are around, my friend a piece of advice, run and don't just run, ESCAPE. They are well armed with borrowing skills and they clearly know you don't have a coin, so when they asks for ten bob and you give them a hundred expecting change, dude it seems your wait will be longer...

#4, Bribing the police. If there is a happy man right now in Kenya is the traffic police officer. This is the season to make millions because we will all break the traffic rules, drink and drive, drive at higher speed, drive for long distances without taking a break and all that. Mututho laws are irrelevant during this holiday, but we all have an escape route, kitu kidogo kwa polisi...

#5. Njaaanuary is coming. The month that we wish it would be scrapped off the calendar because it seems to have 45 days. Everyone is broke, hold that thought, not everyone, you remember the guys i mentioned there above, they will not be broke even for a single minute...its just us the common citizens. Reason being, we spent all of it in December, we thought it was the end of the world, endless parties, dishing cash like we are shooting a hip-hop video, taking "clandies" to Mombasa and what no. January is when auctioneers make money, imagine during December a guy was a conductor, in January an auctioneer, in November during the El nino rains he was selling umbrellas,,,,that's how people become millionaires without winning a jackpot.

#6. Last but of course not least, Kenyan men, be worried of two industries that will milk your money like squashing a banana for a baby to eat. Sport-Pesa, this is when you will place your bets in thousands expecting millions, am telling you YOTE NI VANITY. Number two, Safaricom, during December holidays we just fuel phones with credit and never mind looking at the charges, When will are high we call girlfriends for hours, we call fellow guys for a drink spoiling the budget. If you don't have credit in your phone, the higher chances are that you will save a lot this Christmas.

vinniewatz.blogspot.com

SPORT-PESA "The Chronicles of a Fresha...

My dear skirts and trousers, its been long since we had a chart about campus life, for those unfamiliar we call it "the chronicles of a fresha"

Money has always been the problem, "chumz, mullar, dough, cents, cash" and all other acronyms you can get as long as they refer to money. So it happened that i was on my financial crisis period as usual. Man, i was too broke to an extent of joining the Christian Union students who had dedicated the entire week to fast, mine was to avoid seeing food. The first day was successful, i went on hungry the whole day as we prayed and interceded. The problem arose in the evening because my CU counterparts could eat well and replenish their bodies after going hungry the entire day. For me, everything was not okay.  

Why is it when your so hungry is when your neighbors prepare aromatic meals and all adverts you see on TV are about food? It was unfortunate that i had to endure this unpleasant situation as the hostel was filled with nice aromatic smell as i passed along the corridors. There was this block that had a history experiencing blackouts. It reminded me of my high-school years where we disconnected electricity in our dormitory in order to conduct uncouth businesses there. So as i passed along the corridors with my lean stomach that was now attached to the back due to hunger, this aroma of cooking meat could hardly pass my nostrils. It was so conk that i had to peep on its direction, and i immediately sniffed the direction it came from. As soon as i approached that direction, i saw a lighting "jiko" with a "sufuria" on top and i supposed there was meat cooking inside. Without hesitation, i grabbed the entire cargo from the cooking fire, pot, lid, and gushed towards my room in a lightening speed. It was the only way that i was going to sustain my starving self or else the situation could have worsened.

I was salivating profusely and i could not hide my joy. I had million plans on how i would start enjoying my feast and dispose the cooking gadgets to kill any evidence. I thought of putting the food in a paper and pretend that i had bought it at the market place and eat it at my own pace. Greed and hunger could not allow me, i had to scoop the hot and viscous soup straight from the cooking pot. Just after i had made my first gulp, i saw the door's handle fly open and "Wanyonyi" entered my room so agitated. I forgot that the same aroma that had made me discover the meal, led him to the "food thief." He did not look friendly and it was not time to smile at each other, the situation was worse. Everybody knew Wanyonyi's appetite, it could not be quantifiable. It became worse when he was angry, a hungry man is an angry man, remember. I clearly knew that he would swallow me plus the stolen meal. I was a dead man walking.

Wanyonyi called out my name loudly and asked what was happening. Before i could explain myself, he told me to eat slowly and return the sufuria and jiko later. I could not believe my ears, it was very unusual for a wephukulu to leave his plate, especially to a thief. With this embarrassment, somebody introduced me to a simpler way of making money. It was about betting or do i say gambling, keep on the chronicles of fresha to see how gambling made my day bad... 

A CV FROM KAYOLE DUDE "THIRD WORLD PROBLEMS"

                                                              CV

               PERSONAL PROFILE

NAME:           Johnte Maich A.K.A Msanii

ADDRESS:     7890765-0822 UYOLE, YOLS, SOWETO DIGGZ kama wewe ni analogue ni                                       KAYOLE

TELEPHONE: 0722764*** 0709814*** 0734****** 0779873*** 0788650*** (Ukipata ya Safcom                           iko mteja, we dunga ya Zain, Orange, ama tu YU).

EMAIL :              Ilifungwa, Bundles ni ngori mtu nguyaz

ID NUMBER:     354******* But niko na abstract ID ilisanyangwa pale Mihang'o

                          CAREER SUMMARY

Am good in marketing, especially convincing people to board a matatu. Sana sana zile manganya za pinpoint hunichukua internship daily. 

                              WORKING EXPERIENCE

23 AUG 2015 -    M-PESA SHOP. Imagine mtu anakutempt na mulla apo na kukupea job M-PESA.                                zilifika thao mbao nikajipanga nazo nkasare job. Mungu husaidia mtua amejisaidia,  28 AUG 2015

Jan 2015- Aug 2015: SEMI-CONDUCTOR: wale maconda huita wathii waingie kwa mat. Masquad                                       nilidungwa kathaa, experience hapa ninayo. 

                                     

                                      EDUCATION

2010- 2014:             D.E.B, C.D.F Project, Government of JAPAN /USAID Soweto Free Day                                              Secondary. Apa niliwai ka D+ but nilikua poa kuliko bro after kurudia fourth 

                                  alipatanga ki D-.

                                        CAREER OBJECTIVES

Haja ya biz nikumake dough. We usijali venye tutazipata ata kunyang'anya wasee bado ni an option.

                                          HOBBIES

Kuchana sana sana muguka, veve ya Meru ni expe sana

Kuenda baze majioni

kuskiza riddim (kwanza nina stress vybz kartel ako machingili man)

kuenda jam session

                                      REFEREES 

Saich Mras

0786543****

YOLS ukipenda KAYOLE (but huyu aliwaia na masanse juzi unaeza mpata mteja)

Shiks wa Mwaura

07654******

Kariobangi

   

LETTER TO MY EX...Just keep reading

It has come to my attention that a break-up in a relationship is a rite or right of passage if you like. Even when things seem so sweet in your relationship, that Sms "we need to talk" must be received in your phone ONE DAY. The saddest part is that you will have to part ways and move-on with life separately. In these situations, people react differently; some drink alcohol uncontrollably, some cry, others insult their partners, some seek to revenge, tarnish each other's name among other embarrassing reactions. However, i have decided to be different and unique as always.

 I will write a recommendation letter to my Ex just like employers write about their employees. 

Vinniewatz

P.O BOX lost love

My Ex,

HRM Broken Hearts Ltd

P.O BOX mapenzi.com

NAIROBI.

Dear Mr. Future Boyfriend,

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

This is to notify you that the above named person has been working with our company for the last two years. She has been deployed on a rotational program in an array of departments from cooking, washing, accounting my salary, and planning my time. As her supervisor, there are few things i have noted that I should bring to the attention of her future boyfriend. One of the most important issues is that the purported person is a spendthrift. Since we knew each other, I have not saved a single coin in my savings account. She has been asking money from me like a Sacco. I have been evading fellow men since i cant buy them a round; I haven't sent my mother a dime for a while, thanks to this woman.

I would also like to inform you that this person snores badly at night. Her nose can be useful to make a commercial for Subaru motor vehicle. Her heavy sound at night as resulted to my insomniac conditions; sometimes i had to plug in headphones with loud music in order to sleep. She has this weird way of dreaming where she mentions other men's names other than mine. For example, before we broke up she was just obsessed with Morris, she kept on saying "Mollis, Mollis, nimeshoka."   I don't know what that means but since she had mentioned several men before, i was not moved an inch. 

This lady does not cease to amaze me, she had drafted a time-table for our conjugal. Imagine for me to see her, i mean seeing her (you get it), we had to make a fixture just like the EPL League fixtures. If I was late or there was a match abandonment like Gor and AFC match, this meant that i had to loose all the three points. 

However, there are few things that she was good at. Number one, talking, this lady can talk, she can complain all day long, talk more than a stereo radio. She used to scold me each minute we were together for the simplest reason. I now believe the singer Juliani that electric fence cannot protect you from a nagging wife. She is also good in eating, imagine we had to fill the refrigerator every week and I live in Kayole, Is this fair? She can eat lunch at her home, come to my house and cook, and still ask me to take her out for lunch.

Anyway, the lady has gained vast experience about relationship and I believe she will use it to her next organization. I would like to take this opportunity to wish her all the best in her future endeavors. All the best Mr. future Boyfriend. 

Yours in Pain,

Vinniewatz 

  

CHELSEA WOOS..LETTER TO MOURINHO

José Mário dos Santos Mourinho Félix OIH, known as José Mourinho,

Papa Jose Mourinho can we have a small talk...like grown-ups
I have been a faithful and loyal follower of you his excellency, the special one, unique one, chosen one, and also the successful one. Since came to Stamford Bridge as an expatriate to when you made a Kenyan get hold of a Champions league title at Inter-Milan, to your short-flashy stay at Barnabue. However, of late there are some issues i need we iron out...

What crime did Eva Caniero commit that did not warrant a pardon or solving the issue in-house. I have to admit that this lady is my #WOMANCRUSH of all times. She is beautiful, going through her Wikipedia profile, she is a learned woman who can qualify to be a very intelligent wife.Why did you "rub" her? reinstate her please. Did you notice how David Luiz used to lay down now and then so that Eva can treat him? Believe you me after the lady massaged the boy's balls, we could not lose the match. Coming back to Man-city, i believe Terry and Costa missed the services that is why they opted out of the game. I usually consoled your unbearable face with her's, every time the camera focused on the stands. 

Secondly, why keep lashing on Arsene Wenger. Please Mourinho, let the sleeping dog lie, Wenger is a dog that cannot wag its tail to ambush a nagging tse-tse fly. The old-man is just a football ancestor who should be preserved in a shrine with his under-age team. Just leave the man alone, we are tired of your off the pitch squabbles with the professor of...

Thirdly, please please please Mourinho bring back the bus, they might hate on you but it win titles. Look at Wenger and Van-Gaal, they have already stolen your style, scoring one goal and forming a Babylonian wall to protect the goal. Did you see how Wenger has specialized on the art, removing Chamberlain and bringing in this tall guy i don't mind his name? The "Mbus" as Kiraitu Murungi calls it is our only way to the top, bearing in mind that we are now sponsored by a Tyre making company.    

Your mind games are the best lest you forget. I like how you used to say Diego Costa wouldn't play then we see him on the line-up. It worked, pretty well i assure you. Stop changing now, by the way, bring Oscar back, he is good at least my girlfriend cheers him when we watching our game with her. She says that Oscar is the only guy that looks close to handsome in the pitch after Hazard. We need lady fans to win, kindly bring handsome men. Please do not laugh but seriously, Diego Costa, who says he is 26 years. Gosh, are those years counted in blocks of threes, but maybe i get you. In Nigeria, the under 17 team looks older than Michael Carrick and the youngest looks like Eloquim Mangala. 

Lastly, Kenyan fans are real haters please the chosen one. Imagine one person tagged me these on my Facebook wall. And i quote "Please listen to Chelsea fans, they have a point....hahaha A point after two games...no way!!!! I find this insulting but just leave them, they are called Kenyan football fans, very crazy and creative at the same time. Please Papa Jose, I will end it there but just know am penning down more.

If you would wish to get more of my opinions...
log on to  vinniewatz.blogspot.com

@vinniewatz

THE SIMPLEST BREAK-UP...EVER!

It started like a joke; seriously, i din't see it come but i had to make a decision and move on with life.

Our relationship had taken close to eight years, everybody new that we have been together. Each evening i looked forward to meeting my one and only, i made calls, gushed to our rendezvous each time i saw a chance. But this was all going to end, it was time we had to brush our shoulders and say with confidence, ENOUGH IS ENOUGH...

The day we broke up was much prepared, both psychologically, emotionally, and physically. I had visited a therapist prior to this day so that i can be strong for this major lifetime event. As i sat there waiting for the prime hour to arrive, memories whirled round my wits as i remembered how it all started. A shy young boy who was raised in the christian ways had defied all odds and decided to strike a move. A move that was seen as temptation, sin, a vice, but i had to do it. I had already joined high school, so i had to be like other men. I had to be bold and go against my parents' advice and try my own ways. Little did i know that it would end just like a snap!

Breaking up is not easy, it is just not a decision to make overnight. The message is so hefty that it cannot be conveyed via Watsapp or other social networking site. It requires the person to face it and blurt out whatever words will come out of his juke-box of a mouth. As i sat there calmly, i thought of the expected results of our break-up; losing friends, lacking a place to pass time, especially during weekends, feeling sunken and wasted for all those years...bla bla bla

At exactly 5 p.m in the evening, we were sitting together. I tried as much as possible to avoid a direct eye contact because i couldn't believe that i was the one to initiate the break-up. My lips were heavy, my eyes were now red and succulent, the hands were encroached in between the legs as if i had been dropped to the Antarctica. I had prepared this day for more than a week, but when it came i just felt fear all over me. I wished it would end like a dream and wake up to another reality.

Like all men do, i decided to it just the last time before we break-up. I moved closer without looking up front. She was there waiting for my next move. Her presence frightened the hell out of me and i just kept wondering, will i do it? Confidence was piling up rapidly just like a thermometer, i could feel my heart-beat pounding loud in my lungs. I stretched my arms, moved closer, looked at her, and words started flowing like a stream. I could not believe that it was happening just for the last time between us. At last i told her, "give me the last one." The waiter looked at me and said "really Vinnie you are quitting alcohol?.  Then she opened the refrigerator and passed me another beer. It was hard to believe that i was quitting alcohol, this break-up was so emotional that i posted all the hashtags that we can have. I felt low for a moment, the waiter was just discouraging me saying that she knew i will be back in a few. But i had already said enough was enough, our relationship with alcohol had taken ages, destroying most of my plans and it was time to let it go. So i broke-up with alcohol, not with anyone...

SHEMEJI NINA JAMBO

Akiwa amejawa na kasumba,

Mwanagenzi Mkenya kasakata Rumba,

Na Kijana asiye wa hii Nyumba,

Matokeo ni kutungwa Mimba,

Mimba ambayo ilipo vimba, iliwaletea wanaKenya Simba,

Ndiposa tukapata Mkhwasi!

Ati naskia wee Ni raisi Ughaibuni,

Tena ulianza na udiwani,

Je, ni ukweli ama tu ni utani?

Ufalme wako wavutia kama samaku, kutoka uvuo hadi Ukambani,

wanukia kama karafuu, na sasa uwaja nyumbani

Mkhwasi, karibu tena nyumbani

Rais Obama, nina mawili matatu yakukueleza,

Kwanza, Msichana wako Malia ana demandi,

Kutoka kwa wa Maasai hadi kwa wa Nandi,

Eeeeeiiish, ata mimi khandi,

Naona kama anaweza nipa Shitandi,

Sura yake mzuri mama, mpaka afanya nikose appetite !

Lakini si ya Ugali wala kuku, mbali niya vipusa wengine!

Jambo la pili Shemeji wa Ulaya,

Rais wa Kenya akatueka haya,

Akafungueoko kiwanda cha miwa cha Mumias,

Kumbe nia yake ni kumaliza kanyuaji,

Ati Busaa na Chang’aa sio uji,

Mbali ni Vinywaji vinazoleta mauaji

Ndiposa bwana shemeji,

Usikuje mkono mtupu kama shikongoyoko

Angalau beba sahani, kama mtoto wa Nerea

Eh mwana weru Obama,

Uli mtoto wa Mama,

Kutoka nchi ya Kenya,

County hiyo ya Ugenya

Ndiposa nakuuliza swali,

Je, wewe ni Gor ama Chui?

Basi kama haujui,

Ingwe ndio Chui,

Timu isiyo na uadui,

Timu ya Baba na Mama

Timu ya kujivunia,

Timu ishangazayo dunia,

Iletee mipira na gunia,

AFC timu ya dunia

Shemeji nalikunja jamvi,

Lakini la muhumi nishasema,

Mate hapa jijini usije katema,

Ama Kidero akurudishe mapema, kwa kukiuka sharia za jiji

Lakini usisahau, pia kakamega ni Mji,

Unaweza pitia unywe chai Alhamisi,

Ndio Ijumaa ukamuone Raisi,

Karibu Rais Obama,

Kwa nchi ya Baba na Mama!

By, Vincent Murimi

@vinniewatz 

Metamorphosis of KENYAN youths

Do you remember this? Egg-Larvae- Pupa- Adult. If you didn't go through the 8-4-4 system, well, we used to call it the metamorphosis of a housefly if am not very wrong.

Okay, because now you remember, kenyan youths are exactly like houseflies..

Age 12-14..

For ladies boys become interesting, they like asking their parents all sort of questions. They are cuddled and they always say "mom you are the best". They dilly dally all day in the house waiting for sunday to get a chance of getting out of the house, of course to sunday school. Boys are trying to understand themselves, they are over ambitious and focused on books, back at home they are trying to get incorporated into the outside world, but they still wash the dishes, clean the house and other considered female chores. 

Age 14-16..

Enhe, life begins, probably they are in form two or three. They discover how to watch explicit movies, to sip vodka and pretend to be very high just to show off to their friends. They start says how their parents are nagging, old-skool, policing them, and all sort of degrading statement. They discover the annoying Jamaican Dancehall music which they dance to anyplace they hear a beat. They go to library to see each other and not to read. They are always on their phones and they become extra lazy.

Age 17-19

A little feel of maturity gets induced into their lives. Probably they are out of high school and the outside life is not as cool as they expected. May be they did not get admirable grades and they start finding out whether they have any talent. They stay at bus stations for hours waiting for the newest arrival, the booming car that has the loudest music. They join these street colleges just to feel that they are in institutions of higher learning not knowing that they are wasting their parents' money.

Age 20-23

Joins real college or university and the reality of life jets in. They need money to cater for almost everything they need in this life. For the fortunate enough, their parents supports them and the rest (ladies) looks for sponsors. Liquor becomes a basic need in life and a way to pass time. They fall into failing relationships which do not last more than 52 weeks. The most valuable asset they have is a laptop and a smartphone and nothing else to show. 

Age 24-26

Looking for a serious job and starting to live like a human being. They feel they are very mature that the can go ahead and snub everyone's advice. They view university students as children forgetting that they are only some months out of campus. They always complain of how busy they are but end up using their salaries on alcohol and saving a few coins on M-shwari. Duties beckon, they are invited for burial and wedding committees, they chip-in for their siblings school fees.

Age 27-30

They need a bigger room to dwell in, marriage is a priority, they need to start a small business to act as an extra source of income. They start despising the lower side of the town and brag of how they drink at expensive joints. Life becomes demanding

Age 31-34

THESE ARE NOT YOUTHS, THEY JUST WANT UWEZO FUND AND KAZI KWA VIJANA MONEY!!!!

OBAMA IS SLIM...SIZE DISCRIMINATION

THE CHRONICLES ARE "OBAMATIVE"

With uncle Barack coming home like Nameless this Friday, i figured out what we have in common and how it affects my stay in this globe.

For a fact, we share nothing based on his figurative and noble stature in the society whereas I am just an individual who is below the poverty level, living for 2 USD a day. He is Kenyan like me, but we hail from very different regions, even though my skin color depicts his region, we differ very much. Our names, his first name starts with a "B", the second letter in the alphabet, well, mine starts with a "V", just figure out where i am placed.

Hold on, there is something we have in common, body structure. We are both slim but he is slightly taller than me with a height of 6'1 while i am 5'8. He is a black American, so we cannot compete with heights, I am definitively vertically challenged. However, for the size I am pretty sure i can raise for the occasion. Many politicians especially Africans (Obama is obviously an African) are characterized with obesity, but my uncle has a flat belly.

Talking of Obama's Size, my mind is taken aback to situation that occur back here at home. When you visit your "shagz" (up country), the first exclamation is always you have gained or lost weight. For my mother, having a tummy and a body full of flesh is a sign of having a good life. 1 GB individuals just like me will never get a positive comment from my up-country fellows. This got me thinking, why are small-sized individuals disrespected?

I was once taking a group of students for a competition and when their teacher was called out I appeared. To my amazement, I was told to go and come with another teacher as I was very young to represent them. I politely asked, what age should a teacher have to represent students. You know what, I was told not the age but the size. WHAAAAT!!! I remembered once my friend who went for an interview for a HRM position, he was refused for he had a slender size.

Another example that will fit all Kenyans is what happens in our night clubs. Most of them will accommodate everyone on Mondays because there are no customers. On Tuesdays the age limit will be 18 and 23 on Fridays. I am obviously past this age, but i cannot access a club without producing my identity card. Actually, when i forget my ID i always find my younger friends sweet talking the bouncers on my behalf as they are considered older just because of their body mass. When i try to stop a car on the road the driver will probably pass me as if he dint see me wave. The main reason is that he is afraid to be mugged, but when a guy with a huge belly and probably white hair stops a car, the driver has to stop. The police are also in this, when they meet you in town and you are size 8, my friend prepare to sleep behind the bars...

I am tired of being size-ly discriminated, can someone donate some flesh to me or stop this madness. By the way, uncle Barack when you come, can we visit those body mass weighing machine that are located all over the town. Actually, the one at Aghan Khan Walk which talks to you. I need to know your size before you are size-ly discriminated in Kenya!!

DIVERSITY A BLESSING OR A CURSE...MULTIPLE TALENTS, MULTIPLE PASSIONS

Today is on a Sunday and most Christians observe it and keep it holy. Being one of them, i opt to keep the Chronicles clean and pass on sense...

I have always wondered why an individual would take an engineering course, enroll on CPA or accountancy, he plays football, he is a drawing artist, and he has some medical skills. Someone once asked me want i want to do in life (that silly question that keeps on re-occurring in your simple miserable life). This was my very simple answer...

 I want to be a columnist, an author, act in plays, be a playwright, director, start a small business, radio presenter, use my college skills which are embedded on business field by either being a banker or a human resource manager. The answer was not as simple as you would wish it to be; actually, i had left out several other activities that am passionate about. The second question was, how do you spend your spare or free time. Then i said, writing poetry and blogging, reading, watching movies, doing research and development, visiting my family, and of course draining the rotgut down my gut. 

It is real, normal and very okay to have an array of interests that you feel energized and inspired to pursue them. Many people who have an active brain are always engaged into something that differs from the other. In most cases, we find ourselves pursuing things that we did not study in school such as modelling and music. 

However, there are several adverse consequences that are aligned to diversity in your talent. One of the most significant issues is the lack of perfecting one art. If a person is talented in playing football alone, then he has all the time to perfect his skills. Conversely, a person who plays football, guitar, acts, and studies hospitality may lack ample time to push his arts. Secondly, we suffer from burnouts, physical fatigue and emotional imbalance from time to time. Switching from one item to the other is demanding. Dr. Herbert Freudenberger in his book Burnout described it as the feeling of a burned house when bricks are left shuttered. Therefore, multifaceted people should understand that burnout is a natural cause they have to encounter.

Another issue is constant stress and confusion as to which path to follow and emphasize on. Many people will call themselves doctors or teachers; they have a definite career path. Unfortunately, we lack direction and this may make us feel as lost and empty.

On the flip side, there are numerous advantages that follow suit to this kind of individuals. One advantage is multipotentiality is “An educational and psychological term referring to a pattern found among intellectually gifted individuals. Because gifted students generally have diverse interests across numerous domains and may be capable of success in many endeavors or professions, they are confronted with unique decisions as a result of these choices.” [Wikipedia]

Secondly, we are comfortable in any environment because we adapt easily. We can listen to all genre of music, have vast knowledge in a broad spectrum among others. We learn to use time wisely because there is no time to waste or engage in unpleasant activities.

There you go folks, Multiple talents and passion is a blessing and not a curse. It is important to note that even people with a single talent have the best chance of perfecting it and ensuring they remain at the top. Blessed Sunday 

DON'T BE A MESS...

EID MUBARAK friends and family but note this as you celebrate

THE CHRONICLES OF A FRESHA still exists...
It was exactly a time like this during the eve of the great Eid-al-Fitr and everyone was excited about the succeeding public holiday. In Nairobi, everyone yearns for a free day to stay in the house forgetting the dark days spent idol before getting employed. As a Fresha, I was so excited that we would be having an extended weekend running from Friday to Monday (You know Mondays are the worst days of the year unless its a pay day). For this occasion, my friend had received an invitation for his nephew's birthday and he extended the invitation to me.

Contrary to my usual self, I was not excited about the invitation but at the same time I couldn't turn down the offer. It was something that i had wished for, but i was afraid of how events will unfold. My friend was an incorrigible drunk who dragged my presence to any of his drinking spree. The main problem about this event was the venue; let me admit and be very honest with you, I have never been to the other side of the town. I have never dined or wined with the affluent plutocratic members of the society; in simple terms, i had not yet gotten a chance of spending a night on the estates that are beyond Moi Avenue other than Kawangware and Kangemi. I was perturbed with how i will conduct myself in front of wealthy people whom i only managed to interact with on my television set.

First thing to note, rich people keep time; exactly at 7 p.m as stipulated in the invitation, everyone was at the venue. There was no excess jeering as I am used to in Eastland anytime there is presence of alcohol. Just the sight of the cheap-750 ml second generation alcohol attracts screams and cheers you would confuse the neighborhood with a Masaku Seven's event. Secondly, in this side of the town people eat (i mean real eating a 3 course meal) before pouring a glass of the demon rum. I did the opposite, i started with serving myself a glass of rotgut, Viceroy. One sharp gulp that gushed down my esophagus making my eyes turn red with a tear-drop. At least i got the courage to serve food where i filled my plate like i had not seen food for two decades. After clearing two bones of chicken meat, i opted to take another glass, this is when my juke box ignited and started giving people stories. I did not notice that they were not interested in my poverty-stricken stories. Rich people only talk about development!

Introduction time, everyone uttered their name in a precise and in brevity; on the contrary, i took 5 minutes explaining my facebook names, and all other irrelevant things. By now, i had hidden my vintage viceroy thinking that there will be a shortage as I am used to back to my neck of the woods. Rich people are funny, they had only displayed few bottles of liquor and my mind was telling me that i need to be sharp and hide some for myself. Just when i had started to get tipsy, they opened the fridge. The ninth wonder of the world, all the expensive liquor that i only saw in Rick Ross videos was in there. The walking Johny, the rock of C (Ciroc), Tequila, Magnum, Martini and brown bottles just to name the very few. I was awed with my mouth agape. There was no way that i was going to waste this God-given opportunity of taking the so-called expensive alcohol. My glass was getting filled after two seconds as i hurriedly gulped the content. I found myself dancing to any tune that played, everyone was avoiding me as i was behaving like those Nigerian women i usually see on Afro sinemas; at least my friend was trying to calm me down.

The next thing i remember was lying flat on the toilet basin as i had messed the living room. I was drunk beyond recognition, my clothes were messed up. I had dismantled a laptop, broken glasses and the host was demanding that i clean the house and replace the expensive glasses albeit repairing his laptop. When i gained conscious, it was dusk and everyone had left the room other than my friend who was by my side. Funny enough, i was still clung to the bottle of liquor that i had hidden for my stock. After cleaning my mess, the next thing was to hire a cab to my room and vowed not to attend rich people's bashes again because i was the only odd-one out.
P.S. i never honored that promise, invite me and see

Be safe people, don't drink and drive or mess up. EID-MUBARAK

DISTURBING behaviors by women passengers

The Chronicles of a Fresha always brings you the reality of life in the most interesting way you will ever find.

In Kenya, especially Nairobi, Matatus or the P.S.V's are the main mode of transport for most of the residents just like me. However, some disturbing manners elicited by ladies in these vehicles are too huge to swallow leave alone to stomach. As a result, i will vomit them one by one....

#1. Fare...
What is the need of looking for your handbag all over the place to remove your transport fee when the conductor approaches and it is half-way the journey. From when you board this matatu, one thing is for sure that you shall pay for the services offered. I am disturbed when am seated to a lady and she has to shrug her Tuskys, Nakumatt, Kassmat paper bags, Keringet bottles, umbrella and even Galitos polythene bags looking for her handbag to extract her fare. JIPANGE MAPEMA

#2. Travelling with your extended family kids and you cannot handle them..
"Uncle/Auntie nishikie huyu please" is a very famous phrase where they ask you to help them carry these children. A person boards matatu with 13 kids and is  only willing to pay for three seats meaning the neighboring passenger will have to help in migrating your family. BUY YOUR OWN CAR or travel alone

#3. Being always moody...
Nairobi ladies are always on headphones and scribbling their mobile phones even when they are out of power. They use the screen as a mirror just to make sure they avoid any contact with the person seated next to them. They also fold their lips in a manner likely to suggest they have kissed a thousand frogs and you are definitely NOT the prince charming..

#4. chewing...
#self-explanatory please you chew like cows' cud. please, gerrrr out here,,,chew ugali instead!

#5. Seating like you are...
ladies, kindly note that men should occupy the largest part of the available double seats in a matatu. This is because men seat while spreading their legs and most of them are taller than the available space between two adjacent seats.

#6. Coins and Notes...

A Nairobian lady can never give the tout coins of seventy shillings in tens denomination but pull out a note of thousand shillings to impress the other passengers, sorry, STRANGERS. Girl, you only live for yourself, give the poor conductor a simpler time by issuing the coins you have. you give notes in matatus and coins in churches....#ndingihota like Ciru Muriuki...

My First "FRESHAZ" Night......The Chronicles of a Fresha

I think all public universities in Kenya host "Freshaz night", but they have distinct titles to refer to this eventful day. It is the second most awaited day after the MR & MISS Campus, note the graduation day comes third.


All the notice boards and walls were awash with these colorful posters that were very eye-catching. The mix of colors was artistically done that the shape, pattern, and the mood of the panting was really advertising an adventure to come. The stippling and shading elicited an entopic graphomania making the artifact to qualify for an exhibition week in Louvre or Denver art museum. With all my freshness, my eyes staid glued to the posters as i admired the beautiful work of design. Additionally, the message on the poster lingered in my mind over and over again. Why is it called a freshas night? Does it mean we will be stripped and whipped like "monos' in high school? Why was everyone curious and talking of this day?

It did not take long before my questions got answered, perfectly. It was on a Friday evening and i could see the school arena situated just in-front of the assemble hall being pimped. A stage was mounted and lights were being fixed, all sort of music machinery and gadgets were being set. There were an array of activities but it was clear that there was going to be hell of a party in the school.

As darkness settled in, there were numerous echoes of one, one one two, one two, three mic testing. I had only seen such kind of preparation in our village crusades, but i could hear secular music play, clearly this was something far from a crusade. During the day, several groups of people went round the campus convincing the freshas to embrace their night in numbers. It did not take long before the event started, the DJ was up to his A-game. "Up-coming artists rocked the arena, though they made us tired by this common phrase, "mikono juu, mikono juu ya hewa" (hands-up in the air) and they never told us to put them down. A residential comedian and a musician were present and gave a jaw-dropping performance.

That is when the third years and fourth years guys arrived smelling like a winery or a cheap liquor store, totally drunk. They staggered all the way to the arena scrambling for the innocent freshmen ladies. They argued loudly and took them off their seats by force. They did it so greedily and exerted fear among us. I was shocked to hear someone grab my hand. "No this is a mistake, i am a man", i thought. Who was this confusing me to a lady?


With all the confusion i stood up and found out it was a lady. She was a third year student from her looks, but she was just irresistible just like Kensauce. She requested me to accompany her since the event had been disrupted. who can let down such an offer?, i obliged with a huge giggle. She had covered herself with the 'Masaai shuka", putted on lipstick at night and looked so welcoming. I had seen her on one or two occasions in the institution. It dawned on me that she was also in a haunt for a FRESHA...Ponyoka na fresha they said.....to be continued.

EPL IS DOOMED...The Chronicles...

Nappy Girl

It was just another cold Saturday afternoon, the traffic jam at Nairobi was easing up as the cars gushed in an admirable manner in well construed lanes. Touts' shouts echoed in my ear drums as the ear lobes froze due to the calm breeze that was flooding the atmosphere, making it very chilly. I wore a black trench coat and tucked my hands inside the pockets. "Boys are like wild animals, they travel in herds" that is my own composed proverb as it applied that day. We were around ten young energetic lads who were shouting on top of their voices in what seemed to be an argument about an iniquitous issue.

I was unusually quiet, everybody kept asking me whether i was okay because they were used to my extroverted nature. Something was really becoming a pain in the a..as..ah...arsenal. On normal occasions, i am usually indulged in such heated debate on which team will bag the English Premier league. However, on this day, i was cool, calm, and collected, i played a audience to nine-noisy college boys (you don't know how stressful it is).

Frank had made my evening to be such a living hell. He had sort the company of one of his best friends who had made my teeth to grind and hands shake in despair. He had brought a nappy girl. In such incidences, when a guy brings a lady friend who he has no attachment to, it means she is up for grabs. I only looked at her from the corner of my eye, her nappy-curled hair that swung like a horse pony tail just reflected on the pupil of my eye. She was shinning bright on the silver lining of the setting sun on the horizon. Her lipstick was jaw-dropping for what i would call, wet-lips. From her composure and unresponsive nature to my friend's inquiries, it was right to infer that she was bored; actually, very bored. They were only discussing matters football leaving her out in almost everything.

I managed to look at her once again; coincidentally, our eyes met, her dimples automatically formed an admirable cave on her chubby cheeks while her eyebrows curved upwards and wrinkles formed on her forehead. She looked lovely, she was beautiful-the least i could say. Her sense of fashion was well thought based on the cold evening weather. She looked confident and mature enough, but her persistent gaze at me sent my meta-cognition into task. Was she disgusted with my quiet nature, had i shown a grotesque appearance or was she thinking i was among the pick pockets in town? Never mind, i consoled myself, but she was so meticulous about my every move.
The first reaction a man gets after being strolled by a lady who looks of a class beyond him is fear(i bet you have all watched Gods Must be Crazy, the guy in green land-rover).

As i was thinking of my first move, she stroke first; you are so quite, are you worried that your team will loose? I went numb for some seconds as i tried to figure out for the most suitable answer to this beautiful and well-behaved lady. "Raise your arms for security check", the bouncer blurted out in a horrific voice. We had already reached our destination, the club. I had not answered the question and my mind was really troubled. I only imagined the smell of her perfume that had brought a nonchalant fragrance in the surrounding environment making all the individuals present to turn their heads in admiration. Everybody in our company wanted to seat with her, but she choose to sit with the frail me.

"You look so scared and you have not answered my question", she said as we took our seats. "Does she know who i am", i thought to my self. It was time to bring my A-game and rise to the occasion. As i was composing my best pick-up lines (you look familiar), I received a text from Frank telling me that the lady-friend had fallen for me. What???????!!!! she had already told Frank? We started with the normal introductions and i maintained my somber mood as a judge. I was so composed that you would surmise i am a lawyer or in other respected career. The entire club started making noise instantly, the game had already started. I immediately turned my head to the screen as the lady kept talking to me.

Balancing my attention to the girl and the game was proving to be tasking. I went to an extent of saying yes to questions that required a no answer. I completely changed my seating posture and staid glued to the screen screaming like a hungry brat. The lady on the other side became bored and kept on tapping me to seek my attention-ladies love attention, huh? I could not allow my self to loose this intense moments as the bullet-less Arsenal guns were firing high at the cradle of football in England, the Stamford bridge.

The lady visited the lavatories a million times, she tapped her phone till it run out of charge, she yawned, stretched, switched seats, but i did nothing. I could not manage to look at her and miss the tik taka game played by Arsenal yet it was yielding no goals. The worse happened when the lady wanted to leave as the game continued, she asked for my number so that we can communicate later. I was so attached to the game that i thought she was referring to the number of goals scored. I confidently answered zero-zero. The lady slammed the table, lashed her tongue, snapped her fingers and clicked loudly as she swerve her nappy hair showing disgust in all her face. She left in a hasty manner and later sent Frank a text message, that guy is a jackass, he will get married to football. That is how i lost my melodious chance of dating a beautiful lady. The worst bit is that Arsenal hammered Chelsea 5-3. It was just another sad day.

********
Anyway, the football season is coming to a close and i know women are now relieved. They will be spending the entire weekend cuddled to their husbands as they will be not be having places to visit. Moreso, there is no nagging discussion with their friends about how they will take the league. No more betting 20,000 on Sport-Pesa and leaving 2,000 at home. All in all, Chelsea are the champions!!!!

A LOVE LETTER, The Chronicles of a Fresha...

Back at it again, my experiences as a freshman...

I managed to dig out my dungeon of a carton box that acts as my archive as i was looking for the so called important documents that i might have misplaced. The struggle was real but i finally managed to collect at least two receipts of expensive dinners that i attended and i am posting them on Instagram very soon. By the way, when people take ovacado and githeri, why don't they post them on social media?
Anyway, this is what i found out. My love letter in high-school, read it and i hope it will trigger some sweet memories that this age of watsapp will not enjoy.



PS:RE: TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.

                                                                                                                       Vinniewatz,
To my love,
P.O Box 12435825382,
Gakoromone day and mixed, CGH,
BOG free education, CDF secondary school,
Tharaka-Nithi


I would like first to thank the almighty for giving me this opportunity to express my undying love to you on this webuye product. My heart is pounding hard like a posho mill as i scribble with this drill that oozes blue blood. My love, since the last time we met at your homestead's fence, i feel like it has been years. I cannot eat, sleep, walk, write, or even do my assignments as my brains are fully engaged into thinking about you. When i remember that you said you will hug and kiss me when we go to the university, my heart swings like a pendulum. My smile bends like a golgi body and your are omnipresent in me like the red blood cells. If you divide me into pieces, my dear you will be the only atom left in my chemical formula. I always memorize your name like a bible verse, read your history like the World War I. To me, you are an onomatopoeia, the hardest and yet the simplest riddle for me.

My dear, let me something that has really been disturbing me. I really don't like the way njoroge looks at you when we are at home. I saw you laughing with him as you went to cut nappier grass, he even touched your shoulders whereas i have only managed to touch only your glasses. Are you in love with njoro because he has money? Let me tell you, he steals that money from selling their milk. He is a bad boy. My dear dont do that to me because i feel like crying right now. iiiiiii aiiiiiiaiii i can even draw the tears for you to believe. This disturbing me and even affecting my studies, i have dropped from a D to a D plus. My dear, let me not fail because of you.

My dear, if you could count the number of raindrops, then you could count my love for you. If you are a car, i would be your engine to keep you running. And if you would ask me, njooro is not the best person comparing to me. I loveeeeeee youuuuu!!!!!mwaaaaaa....

Looking forward to seeing you in the coming science congress. keep the fire burning.

Dedication
Solidad__westlife
Dilemma_____Nelly & Kelly
My endless love___Celina deon

(then shout outs for the guys who could not get the courage to compose their own letters).
shout outz
#shout out to Diana from Mark...keep the fire burning
#Kirimi saying hae to nkirote, you are the only miraa plant in my plantation
#Denno shouting out to the entire school, i am handsome, someone love me please
#Kobia shouting out to kavindu.....ata uko ukambani nitafika mpenzi

Have you ever said something to someone then you regretted later?

After a long writing break, i just feel inspirational and i would like to offer a word or two to my loyal(s) reader out there,,,

I was in a matatu talking to myself as usual (i like consulting my inner self in various instances so that i can evaluate how i am handling my life). As my medulla reflected on a number of wishes that i would like to accomplish very soon, i remembered something that i said to someone over the weekend that i really consider stupid. I call it stupid because every time i recall i find it was not the most suitable statement i made. It keeps ringing on my mind and i just wish i could see the person and say it was a joke.
Consider the following situations:
1. A man shouts at a person in the lavatories, "Hey, those are ladies washrooms!". The purported victim turns and the man notices that she is a lady, he will definitely feel embarrassed.
2. Sending your classmate, who is a staunch christian, a text message that was intended to be for your intimate girlfriend accidentally.

There are several examples we can give on situations that has lead as into a gaffe. One thing that is very significant, we opt to shy away to people we said stupid things to; hence, our rapport is portrayed in shackles. We feel shy facing them especially when we realize that they are superior to us and we made silly and timid jokes to them.

Hey, people that should not worry you a lot, our relationship should continue and the feeling of guilt must be gushed away to allow us to be more comfy with each other.

Shame and embarrassment are among the hardest emotions that human beings would wish to be bombarded with. They take extra caution to avoid shame; however, when it is already done, there is no a reversal.
This is what you should do in such a situation....

1. Laugh at yourself for being such a jack***
2. understand that it was not prudent to do so and promise yourself to be more cautious in your conversations.
3. Do something you love to relinquish the guilty feeling from your skull...may be compose a song about it, write a nice poem addressing the issue, or for you the emotional brats, update your watsapp status,,,,#feelingguiltyforalashingtounge or something else that will make you break free.
4. Do not avoid the people you offended, get more close for them to understand that it was either a slip of your tongue or your nature.

Be blessed

IT HAS BEEN TWO DAYS

it has been two days
       -since;
 i heard the foul smell,
 i had to dwell,
 in the noise that swell,
 now, my ears drums are well,
away from hell,
that i will live to tell.

it has been two days
      -since;
i had to be online,
or being on a line,
trying to make it up for a fine,
that i pay from one to nine,
taking the best of wine,
trying the best to shine.

it has been two days
     -since;
i woke up to the morning dew,
as i watch the very best view,
as snow breaks into a few,
cubes that can make a cue,
for my eyes to have a cud to chew

it has been two days
        -since;
i have been in a new town,
that is not made of clowns,
whose environment cannot let me down,
or leave my face frown,
as the city under the sun, the hamlet,
whose pollution is, a scarlet,
but;
i can only drown,
as i speculate in this noun,
that i have found,
as, mt.Kenya acts as the gown,
that shields us in this town

it has been two days
    -since;
i left Nairobi,
a town i find no hobby,
but i had a lot to worry,
for everything looks sorry,
     around Mt. Kenya, i wake up to the morning dew,
     the view of the snow as it breaks to small slews,
     which many of you never knew,
     that Nanyuki has such a wonderful view

Nanyuki the town around the hill.

THE TALES OF "KIANG'OMBE" HILL...PART TWO

KIANG'OMBE...

The term kiang'ombe can loosely be defined as the harbor of cows, it has a zillion mysteries...

...previously on the tales of kiang'ombe (read with a movie soundtrack). My Grandmother had led a revolt against the colonialist popularly known as the "mubeberu." They were in the deepest part of the forest of Kiang'ombe hills where one of the soldiers had submerged in an invisible spring of water. The soldiers decided to retreat...

If you thought a white man surrenders, then you need to watch a lot of blockbuster movies where the starring are unwilling to give out information even after being chopped off their fingers. The lieutenant had called off the raid not as a sign of amicable end to the pursuit, but to regroup and change the format just like the chosen one, Jose Mourinho. On the other hand, the villains were already celebrating the victory and submerging out of their hideouts. My grandma was receiving numerous spits on the chest (its an act of acknowledgement a heroic act, it can be equated to the Burning Spear Award from the president) for leading a successive mission.

Their husbands heard the noise from their hideouts and also came to see what was happening as they could recognize the voices. It was an astonishing act to meet women in the forest at the wee hours of the night. Actually, blue, silver coated rays of the sky were unearthing symbolizing that it was about  day-break. From a top point, the lieutenant could view the entire action with his binoculars. He could see how jubilant the village was after emerging triumphant.

Within a fraction of a second, there was an abrupt flee of birds as they made squirmy noises that scared the villagers. There was an abrupt wagging of twigs and a hefty breeze that swarm all over their clothes. It was not a usual wind, but a strong, scary wind. My grandfather noted that the hill was signalling them of an impending danger that would be consequential to them. Concurrently, the white man was tip toeing towards the crowd so that they can find them unaware and capture them. They did not want to give any chance that would let the villagers to escape.

Since the villagers had smelled a rat, they had to hatch a plan that would get them out of the foreseen trouble. They believed that Kiang'ombe was the only place that could protect them from any looming danger. Women were instructed to light fire in three different points and everyone was to leave the paths that led to their hideouts. If you have watched movies keenly, forests are bombarded with a thicket that leaves only small pathways without alternatives. Some men climbed on top of trees, while the others escorted women into the caves.

The lieutenant and his troop were approaching with a well planned strategy that would lead to a capture of these rebellious group of illiterate Africans. As a trained army person, he clearly new all the tricks of handling such situations. He perceived himself to be the toughest in the region and he was popularly known across the ridges. No sooner did they approach the "crime scene" than the fire that the women lit had become huge attracting attention from the wild animals. Warthogs, wild-pigs, squirrels, antelopes, and even rhinos occupied all the pathways in the forest running either towards or away from the fire place. As you know, rhinos hate fire so they were running to extinguish it while the warthogs were running against it. One peculiar thing with a warthog is that it follows a straight path without minding the obstacles. The poor lieutenant and his troop were the only obstacle to these animals. It was a humerus and hilarious situation that made my grandma laugh out loudly as she narrated the innuendos that followed.

That is when i asked my grandma what happened next as it seemed the white man was in real trouble. Her answer was, that is a story for another day but just know the hill saved us once more..

THE REINCARNATED TATA

Reincarnated TaTa

Gloomy dust washes my face as a huge beam of silvery coated rays of light inject my eyes as an indication of another day-end. The play and pause of thoughts leave me with screeching sounds and vague visibility as i try to remember the day's events.

TaTa, media is awash with graphic images, disturbing hue and cries as people have become roundabouts, and they are turning against other. The grief and cry of thousands is itching on my eardrums. You taught us that trees in the same forest never scratch and wag their twigs against each other, conversely, they should thatch their leaves and form a canopy. But what i see, it is just a bother, from a sister to a brother, not sparing even their father or mother, just acting like pink panther. I am reporting to you the ignorance that is sweeping our generation. The failure to follow your steps. The agony that abhors when I see people misuse the freedom you fought for twenty seven years. Wait a minute, twenty seven years a slave! my heart pounds, the reincarnated TaTa, are you listening to me. It must have been hard for you, but you persevered for our sake.

Xenophobia is close to apartheid that made you toil in hard rocks. By the way, TaTa are you listening to me? Cast your shadow upon my frail face, for this race, just need your grace. The aptitude of being each brother's keeper, has changed to be your brother's skipper. TaTa, I want you to declare your presence, for i need to get the essence of why my generation lacks sense. Please TaTa, wave with your tail finger so that i can know you are listening.

I can feel your touch, TaTa, I know this is you talking to me. Wow, you are responding in a mighty way. Your spirits are connecting to me like twitter feeds. You are here to save us, give us an answer please because we need to stop this madness.

Brothers and Sisters, Nelson TaTa Mandela's time has passed, but we can be just like him. From now henceforth, my desire, burn like fire, for i want to sire, my objective like the messiah. And that is why, I will be the REINCARNATED TATA. I have the will and the power to be just like him and promote peace in the entire world. From my humble position, i can make a notable change for I AM THE REINCARNATED TATA. Will you?

My Online Love

my oh my!
tides are waving
new trends are paving
for compassion, am craving
old times are wagging
all am left with, is tagging

Round and round i swerve
up and down my heart pounds
left and right, the pupil tilt
What am i looking for
what am i desiring?
What will fulfill my desperation

I feel a buzz
Every-time am with you
Not physically,
Not boldly, neither face to face
I wink when you tweet
I smile, a lone as i re-tweet
I feel shy, on my seat
I feel covered, with Undesired heat


Your presence is heartfelt
In spite of the distance
I click, Nkt when you are naughty
when you fail to text,
each and every instance,
my mind runs dirty
Is she cheating on me,
Is she in abhor with me,
Is she still in love with me,

My online love,
We fly above,
Yet we have not met,
My heart always melts,
You are like a pet,
That has not been kept,
I wish we have met...

My online love

THE TALES OF "KIANG'OMBE"

My grandma is either less resourceful or age has caught up with her. The main reason as to this  is that when i was young, she played the role that is being played by the TV in our current days. We tuned to her stories each and every evening after clearing our plates.

"Kiang'ombe is a hill full of mystery", she blurted out. I have lived here for more than 200 years (that is exactly what she said, i am not very sure whether she has an idea of what is 200 years), but this hill still amazes me. Your dad was exactly your age when "mubeberu" (colonialist) had declared "Emangenesi' (the state of emergency). Don't mind how she pronounced some of the English terms, but they still linger in my mind as fresh as swift air. The breezing cold was drilling their chests as hard and deep to their bone-marrows. Trees made a subtle swing from one side to the other, pumping and accelerating the moving air from Kiang'ombe down to the people's frail bodies which were skimpily covered. The whistle had been blown and some could mistake it with the cockcrow as it was very early in the morning. My grandma held on to her "acting lastborn" (because she bore many others after him) shivering loudly like a spoilt machine.

  "If you do not know where your husband is, we are leaving with you for "more questioning". As from now step besides your hut we are conducting a headcount", the governor announced as the chiefs and village heads translated in vernacular to the poor peasants who were just coughing helplessly. He held onto a "huge gourd that produced hefty noise that could be heard from one ridge to the other." That is how my grandma explained that object people use to announce with during demonstrations, i honestly also do not know its name.

My grandma knew very well that whatever was called "more questioning" was just like applying for your own death certificate. Therefore, she would rather die fleeing than die hopelessly like a flee in front of the colorless man "mubeberu." The entire settlement was surrounded and it was hard to escape, she clearly knew that her husband was among the ring leaders being targeted and he was not at home. She quickly decided to become the Recce Squad and put her life in eminent danger. She took to her heels facing the thicket that was behind her hut. Unfortunately, one of the soldiers identified her and informed the rest. The commander told them to leave the one lost sheep and concentrate with the rest 99 which had been found. However, the entire village saw a looming opportunity and scampered into different directions disorienting the continuing headcount. The soldiers had no option other than running after the villagers. The hot pursuit led them to the famous, the outrageous, historical Kiang'ombe hill. My grandma was the Kipchoge Keino of the day, leading the race with several meters. "Hahahahha", i interrupted her with a laugh, "grandma these old legs can run", i joked. "You idiot, you think i have been old forever", she replied with a snare.

Kiang'ombe saves the day

As they continued running with soldiers on hot pursuit, my grandma made a sudden halt. The entire village stopped but their inertia of motion made their stopping horrible. They clung into each other like a herd of sheep when the leader stops. She had remembered that they had entered deep into the forest of Kiang'ombe. There are numerous tales about Kiangombe but this one was amazing.

The place she was standing had a huge coverage of dry leaves which scattered all over denying them the visibility of the ground. She advised them to swerve and take an alternative route to the other side. Some were reluctant but decided to follow her, anyway. This gave the soldiers a chance to catch up with them and they decided to follow the route that my grand ma had despised. This was shorter and they could get a chance of surrounding the entire village with ease.  

Believe it or not, their shortcut, it was a place that had a deep well that was covered by the numerous dry leaves. The well was filled with water but the leaves could not allow any person to notice. The first soldier who attempted to step on the coverage his whereabouts are not known till today. This is not the biblical story of Moses and the Red sea but my grandmother and the Kiangombe hill. The soldiers had to retreat with fear of more mysteries. For more, keep up with vinniewatz.blogspot.com

IT WAS MY FIRST TIME...

Indeed it was my first time, as usual i was scared stiff of the test awaiting me. She was punctual, actually she arrived thirty minutes earlier. I could not believe that i had finally made this decision. It had troubled me for years, i fought with my conscious for a while. All my friends had done it and it was kind of feeling embarrassed that i was the only one left. I could not brag of being a man as i was the only one, left out.

She looked directly to my eyes, i sighed with relief,i held a deep breath and gathered enough courage to look back at her. My eyes could not hide the fear in me, i could not believe that she was this courageous. Her glimpse, her gait composure, and the suave and calm appearance in her made me to bite my lower lip. We had not talked to each other as she could notice my entire body looked terror stricken. At last she opened her mouth, i did not notice she was talking to me as i had concentrated on her lipstick that looked mouth-watering. "Are you ready we start", she finally blurted out. With a whisper i finally said, "yes i am." What startled me to bones was the condition she gave me, "make sure that your phone is off."

I did not argue as it was my first time. She also told me to make sure i have undivided attention in whatever we were doing. I had not talked to her this time as i opened my eyes widely to see and learn everything. She also told me to spread my legs and it was finally the time to remove it. I stretched my hands slowly and swiftly downwards, I entered into my trouser and removed it waiting to insert. At this time i gathered courage to ask what i should do. She comfortably told me hold on tight to the steering wheel. I removed the car key from my trouser's pocket and i was ready to insert it in the ignition hole. She had told me to spread my legs so that i can learn on how to pedal. It was indeed my first time learning how to drive and i was really scared. But the lady was very eager to teach me..

For any rotten mind out there, have a blessed Sunday.

Duties Ignite

(Phone rings persistently)…..

Hello, hello hel..hello..hellloooo (phone hangs up)

It is past midnight

My dreams are about to ignite

For I was going to enjoy my night

Rest until the morning bright

Owe unto my poor soul

They cannot allow me to fall

With these disturbing calls

But now they stopped

Then my sleep wouldn’t stop

(Phone rings again)

Oh my dear sleep

I cannot fall deep

And at least take a nap

Without going to double tap

My phone with a slap

Then I get a message

That people need salvage

Because they are under a passage

I have to leave my sweet bed

And my duties I have to attend

For this is the trend

For my boss to recommend

I put on my attire

With an undivided desire

For my duties burn like fire

And binding like a wire

From my room I retire

It is our common duty

To render our services

Each minute of the hour

In spite of the challenges