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Friday, 17 July 2015

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





















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