THE CHRONICLES CONTINUES....
It was immediately the second semester after i joined the elite lot in the society to achieve academic excellence: in simple terms, i joined an university. You know campus students think they have touched the sky by just joining the institution. They fight everyone on the road, they do not pay for bus fare, and the most interesting part is that they refer themselves with titles such as engineer so and so or professor and yet your in your first year and you might fail in exam. Wait a minute, was it an university, college, polytechnic or an institute of education. It was referred to as the Kenya Polytechnic University College, I remember how we took pride on the article "The" prefixing the name of the campus. It was a symbol of greatness and we called other universities "A"; For example, A Kenyatta University or A Nairobi Aviation (please do not stone me like the nation media).
Anyway, instead of going circles, let me take you via the superhighway of the experience of my freshness in college. When we re-opened the institution, i was much prepared to enjoy the vastness of the public university not mentioning getting back to Nairobi. I was well equipped with few coins that could sustain me for a while i mean for sometime, two weeks to be precise. With all my freshness, i did not know that when the timetable said you report on 6th people always added two weeks and reported on 26th or even the following month. With my high school mind, i thought people were to report on the material day, failure to which you would get a suspension or punishment (i was a fresha, understand). Just imagine how empty the place was and i was there a lone just watching DSTV the entire day and gulping a killer drink each evening. I was so lonely that i started visiting even stripper clubs in town, but i had not had enough courage to enter, so i peeped from a corner.
One week later, Freshas started arriving. Oh my, at least i could see confused faces around, just like me few months earlier. Since i was the only old guard in the institution, they had to request for my assistance. Where is A or B, i was more than willing to help. As usual, unlike poles attract.. When one lady asked for my aid, we decided to take it to aids.Oops i preempted your thoughts.
In the evening we were so bored together and we decided to hang out around a joint in town. As a person who understands Nairobi to the core, i escorted my ponyoka na fresha girl to the joint. "Black ice" she said, "warm or cold" i asked. She said both, mmm crazy but never mind, fresha have wonders.
After taking the two "sweet beers", her reality started creeping in. She got intoxicated to an extent of saying she does not know me, she insulted anyone around us and started breaking glass and bottles from random tables. That is when the bouncers pounced on me like the green grasshopper. I wonder why men punish other men for their women mistakes. I was given two mighty slaps that made me visualize 50 cents on my face. The damage amounted to two thousand besides our bill of 1700. Seriously where would i get 3700 and i had only taken two beers, "zilikua zimeshashuka." Imagine i had to leave my phone, ID, and a phone number of another person close to me so that i could pay the bill the following day and redeem my collateral security. After my release, i shot like an arrow towards my room. just to see the lady hang out with a third year one week later... After that experience, another man was strolling the cookie jar whereas i came out with a beating
moral lesson, not all that glitters is gold..
BAKE Tracker
Monday, 9 March 2015
KCSE RESULTS 2015, THE CHRONICLES OF A FRESHA
KSCE, is it the end of the tunnel or just the beginning...
(Vinniewatz sends a text to confirm his KCSE results, waits waits waits the responds comes the next day)
One week ago, the nation was hit with the hullabaloo of former students celebrating their hearts out while others lamented and laid blames on a number of factors to one factor or the other. There are a lot of posts on Facebook telling those who "failed" to take heart that they will become entrepreneurs and employ those who passed. That is a lie, hard work never goes unrewarded. Those who worked hard deserve to be celebrated and those who allegedly failed should be embraced and encouraged.
...when the then minister of education Mr. Sam Ongeri replied to my text, it was too late that i had forgotten. I had already purchased a copy of newspaper to check whether my name had appeared, on the irregularities not top 100. My worry was getting an X or a Y anything above that was gladly welcome as results. When i received the message, i first fainted internally before my physical emotions propelled. My face frowned with disbelief and wrinkles could show all over my face. My lips became dehydrated and started remembering all the lectures teachers had given us calling us good for nothing. I sunk low like the titanic and eventually jumped up like dolphins after they had their intimate relationship act. I had attained the minimum grade of joining the university, that is all i wanted.
When i joined the university, i was perplexed to notice that we did not have national level, provincial, and currently county universities like the high schools. We were all accommodated in the same institution whether you are from mwisho wa lami school, tahidi high or even TPF academy. Whether you had an A or you came to bridge mathematics course. I was much confused to meet guys who i had never associated with us because they scored good grades in the same class doing the same course.
Never allow people blow your candle off, you know your potential but always work hard in everything. KCSE is just the starting point of a lengthy life which is an exam also. #iamout
(Vinniewatz sends a text to confirm his KCSE results, waits waits waits the responds comes the next day)
One week ago, the nation was hit with the hullabaloo of former students celebrating their hearts out while others lamented and laid blames on a number of factors to one factor or the other. There are a lot of posts on Facebook telling those who "failed" to take heart that they will become entrepreneurs and employ those who passed. That is a lie, hard work never goes unrewarded. Those who worked hard deserve to be celebrated and those who allegedly failed should be embraced and encouraged.
...when the then minister of education Mr. Sam Ongeri replied to my text, it was too late that i had forgotten. I had already purchased a copy of newspaper to check whether my name had appeared, on the irregularities not top 100. My worry was getting an X or a Y anything above that was gladly welcome as results. When i received the message, i first fainted internally before my physical emotions propelled. My face frowned with disbelief and wrinkles could show all over my face. My lips became dehydrated and started remembering all the lectures teachers had given us calling us good for nothing. I sunk low like the titanic and eventually jumped up like dolphins after they had their intimate relationship act. I had attained the minimum grade of joining the university, that is all i wanted.
When i joined the university, i was perplexed to notice that we did not have national level, provincial, and currently county universities like the high schools. We were all accommodated in the same institution whether you are from mwisho wa lami school, tahidi high or even TPF academy. Whether you had an A or you came to bridge mathematics course. I was much confused to meet guys who i had never associated with us because they scored good grades in the same class doing the same course.
Never allow people blow your candle off, you know your potential but always work hard in everything. KCSE is just the starting point of a lengthy life which is an exam also. #iamout
Thursday, 19 February 2015
DRAMA FESTIVALS
Once upon a time,,,,there was the chronicles of a fresha that was authored by Vinniewatz and it used to elevate the reality to the world. I was clinching twenties and i was in my early years as a comrade or an university student. My ambitions were up high as i wanted to become a banker (by the way, what do we call those people who work in a bank,,,anyway i wanted to become one of them).
I was walking admiring the lawns and the well dressed grass at the university park. My mind was well set that it was time to gain knowledge and become the General Manager of Co-operative Bank in our region. It was just a dream, believe you me because i am still jobless three years down the line.
Some fool somewhere cheated me that i would succeed in college politics and clinch a seat in university union. Please, he lied to me!. One crucial thing that people need to succeed to university politics is money and fame. I came from a remote place where getting my own school fees was a problem, i wondered how i would finance my politics. But some people guaranteed my sucess as i was a popular guy with a good rapport that could influence students to vote for me.
Confidence built in me slowly like a mole house. I knew that things were going to work out but i had to work out with a certain clique that would enable me to win..that is where i made a mistake.....
to be continued when the Tv switch on...
I was walking admiring the lawns and the well dressed grass at the university park. My mind was well set that it was time to gain knowledge and become the General Manager of Co-operative Bank in our region. It was just a dream, believe you me because i am still jobless three years down the line.
Some fool somewhere cheated me that i would succeed in college politics and clinch a seat in university union. Please, he lied to me!. One crucial thing that people need to succeed to university politics is money and fame. I came from a remote place where getting my own school fees was a problem, i wondered how i would finance my politics. But some people guaranteed my sucess as i was a popular guy with a good rapport that could influence students to vote for me.
Confidence built in me slowly like a mole house. I knew that things were going to work out but i had to work out with a certain clique that would enable me to win..that is where i made a mistake.....
to be continued when the Tv switch on...
Thursday, 12 February 2015
VALENTINE: Kenyan Edition
The Chronicles are back....and they are smoky RED for the mood is right,,,,
I was going through my twitter and Facebook timeline just to find an anomaly that couldn't pass my eye. Why can i see so many ladies posting their photos with all the entire 4 liters of sadolin paint on their lips and their bumps held up high with matching colors from tip to toe. Theyaretoomanyto ignore; hence, i had to hit a like on one or two. For sure if i do like your photo then you are lucky enough to have pleased prince charming that he has to deviate from his important schedule to like your damn photo). Hold that thought for a minute, about photos, yes,,photos and those annoying hashtgaz you upload on social media. Ati ooo #morningtingz #feelingmaself #modellingtingz #iwokeuplikethis....that's a lie you woke up looking awful, without your make up, your hair looking like an old toothbrush and sleeping dress that depict your body without those bump enlargers. Allow me to refer to a columnist Michael Muraya that you can never be a model on instagram whereas your mother paid fees at %&#$# aviation to study disaster management which occurs once in a millennium.
Do not judge me for the irked tone that i started with, we were talking about my morning observation lest we forget. I was perusing my social networking sites and found an abnormal trend of these hashtags #valentinethings #feelinginthemood #singlebutloved...by who????? ask yourself that question a million times, but if you don't get an answer,,let me help.
Ladies and gentlemen it is that time of the year that we all experience a RED ambiance on the environment for an entire week if not month.For men, we try our level best to evade this neck strangling day that pilfers all the coins out of our wallets.Oh ladies graciously have mercy on us (if i would quote that catholic prayer). For heaven sake! it is only fourteen days after njaanuary that had pressured us to even putting our phones into airplane mode (kuhepa m,adeni). Then you need a treat after making us to do a hell of a shopping to take to your mother and extended cousins for Christmas whereas i evaded my mboiz because i could not afford a beer. In addition, mothers day is one month away where you all over sudden graduate to become mothers even if we are just dating and you want a treat. After that we have an international women's day before we hit labor day which you confuse with labor pain day, you also want to go out and i cater for the bills. Your birthday is around the corner, you want to invite all your friends, you want me to propose with an expensive ring and i take you to a cosy hotel. Seriously ladies are about to demand for a treat on fools day, oh my oh my::men we are dead. During my dress my choice campaign, men were seen in skirts defending ladies. Have you seen women rally for Nyeri men when they are allegedly disciplined by their wives?
MEN this is a wake up call to you, let us all arise and sing our national anthem "amkeni ndugu zetu" (actually it talks of ndugu not dada). We want a national holiday where we should be treated by women. We also need a national dialogue to discuss who should foot the bills for her mother's Christmas shopping. We also want to know what we get in return for all this spending. Period.
I was going through my twitter and Facebook timeline just to find an anomaly that couldn't pass my eye. Why can i see so many ladies posting their photos with all the entire 4 liters of sadolin paint on their lips and their bumps held up high with matching colors from tip to toe. Theyaretoomanyto ignore; hence, i had to hit a like on one or two. For sure if i do like your photo then you are lucky enough to have pleased prince charming that he has to deviate from his important schedule to like your damn photo). Hold that thought for a minute, about photos, yes,,photos and those annoying hashtgaz you upload on social media. Ati ooo #morningtingz #feelingmaself #modellingtingz #iwokeuplikethis....that's a lie you woke up looking awful, without your make up, your hair looking like an old toothbrush and sleeping dress that depict your body without those bump enlargers. Allow me to refer to a columnist Michael Muraya that you can never be a model on instagram whereas your mother paid fees at %&#$# aviation to study disaster management which occurs once in a millennium.
Do not judge me for the irked tone that i started with, we were talking about my morning observation lest we forget. I was perusing my social networking sites and found an abnormal trend of these hashtags #valentinethings #feelinginthemood #singlebutloved...by who????? ask yourself that question a million times, but if you don't get an answer,,let me help.
Ladies and gentlemen it is that time of the year that we all experience a RED ambiance on the environment for an entire week if not month.For men, we try our level best to evade this neck strangling day that pilfers all the coins out of our wallets.Oh ladies graciously have mercy on us (if i would quote that catholic prayer). For heaven sake! it is only fourteen days after njaanuary that had pressured us to even putting our phones into airplane mode (kuhepa m,adeni). Then you need a treat after making us to do a hell of a shopping to take to your mother and extended cousins for Christmas whereas i evaded my mboiz because i could not afford a beer. In addition, mothers day is one month away where you all over sudden graduate to become mothers even if we are just dating and you want a treat. After that we have an international women's day before we hit labor day which you confuse with labor pain day, you also want to go out and i cater for the bills. Your birthday is around the corner, you want to invite all your friends, you want me to propose with an expensive ring and i take you to a cosy hotel. Seriously ladies are about to demand for a treat on fools day, oh my oh my::men we are dead. During my dress my choice campaign, men were seen in skirts defending ladies. Have you seen women rally for Nyeri men when they are allegedly disciplined by their wives?
MEN this is a wake up call to you, let us all arise and sing our national anthem "amkeni ndugu zetu" (actually it talks of ndugu not dada). We want a national holiday where we should be treated by women. We also need a national dialogue to discuss who should foot the bills for her mother's Christmas shopping. We also want to know what we get in return for all this spending. Period.
Friday, 16 January 2015
WHO RUN THE WORLD,,,GIRLS,so Beyonce says....The Chronicles
The Chronicles of a Fresha...
One thing i learnt in my first year in campus is that women are tools for entertainment that is why we called them "Kifaa." They are supposed to leave their busy schedule and programs to visit a guy in his house and have "fun." However, others are opportunists who are there to rake money from the men counterparts and that is their survival tactic. As usual, i fell a victim of this...but before i unearth the scum, let me give men an advice...
Don't borrow people's clothes because they will get noticed. I had this behavior and it was really a shame for me to do this. This is like a confession because i used to go out in borrowed shirts (which i sometimes took without the owner's consent). And for this time, i had my friend's shoes and top as i went to pick the girl who i had managed to box for two complete months so that she can visit me. I had not done this before (inviting a girl); therefore, i did not know how it goes down when you call a girl to your room. Is she prepared to give in to your demands just for the first time or is she going to drop you like you are hot. Do you draw a diagram of what you want or do you just come blindly and swing into action without minding anything?These thoughts crossed my mind but they did not deter me from my mission.
In a blue jeans, black top and a borrowed pair of white snickers you could mistake me for Omarion or BowWow. I was so confident because i was going to pick her as soon as she alighted from the matatu. I passed via the chemist equipping myself with the requisite tools for spending with a lady, i mean sleeping pills:) piliton. I received a text which was so positive "babe nko karibu kufika." All smiley, i rushed to the bus stop to pick my guardian angel who was meant to enlighten my weekend. I was soon going to be like other campus students who could get temporal engagements and chat their relationship status for at least a weekend.
As soon as a possible, i was at the stage to pick my visitor but to my surprise, they were two of them. "Babe this is my friend, she is called Sharon" This was not good news to me since my plans were to spend with my gal and not with a clan of girls. How the hell do i accommodate two people in one room and continue with my mission? was this possible? does it happen to you men? Before i could make any comment, i could see my roommate gushing towards me. I took a deep breathe with a sigh of relief knowing that he will salvage the situation by keeping one girl busy. When he reached the "crime scene" he uttered words which echo to my eardrums up to date. "We Fresha unafanya nini na viatu zangu na vile nimezitafuta" (you freshman what are you doing with my shoes and the way i have looked for them). He continued to embarrass me when he said that i had applied his body spray even after he had warned me. The girls looked at me like a rotten cabbage among green and leafy cabbages. I was taken aback by these comments, additionally, the ladies were now putting me in a difficult situation as i could not take the two of them....
an idea, an idea, an idea was immediately needed but my mind was blank...
The chronicles continues shortly...
One thing i learnt in my first year in campus is that women are tools for entertainment that is why we called them "Kifaa." They are supposed to leave their busy schedule and programs to visit a guy in his house and have "fun." However, others are opportunists who are there to rake money from the men counterparts and that is their survival tactic. As usual, i fell a victim of this...but before i unearth the scum, let me give men an advice...
Don't borrow people's clothes because they will get noticed. I had this behavior and it was really a shame for me to do this. This is like a confession because i used to go out in borrowed shirts (which i sometimes took without the owner's consent). And for this time, i had my friend's shoes and top as i went to pick the girl who i had managed to box for two complete months so that she can visit me. I had not done this before (inviting a girl); therefore, i did not know how it goes down when you call a girl to your room. Is she prepared to give in to your demands just for the first time or is she going to drop you like you are hot. Do you draw a diagram of what you want or do you just come blindly and swing into action without minding anything?These thoughts crossed my mind but they did not deter me from my mission.
In a blue jeans, black top and a borrowed pair of white snickers you could mistake me for Omarion or BowWow. I was so confident because i was going to pick her as soon as she alighted from the matatu. I passed via the chemist equipping myself with the requisite tools for spending with a lady, i mean sleeping pills:) piliton. I received a text which was so positive "babe nko karibu kufika." All smiley, i rushed to the bus stop to pick my guardian angel who was meant to enlighten my weekend. I was soon going to be like other campus students who could get temporal engagements and chat their relationship status for at least a weekend.
As soon as a possible, i was at the stage to pick my visitor but to my surprise, they were two of them. "Babe this is my friend, she is called Sharon" This was not good news to me since my plans were to spend with my gal and not with a clan of girls. How the hell do i accommodate two people in one room and continue with my mission? was this possible? does it happen to you men? Before i could make any comment, i could see my roommate gushing towards me. I took a deep breathe with a sigh of relief knowing that he will salvage the situation by keeping one girl busy. When he reached the "crime scene" he uttered words which echo to my eardrums up to date. "We Fresha unafanya nini na viatu zangu na vile nimezitafuta" (you freshman what are you doing with my shoes and the way i have looked for them). He continued to embarrass me when he said that i had applied his body spray even after he had warned me. The girls looked at me like a rotten cabbage among green and leafy cabbages. I was taken aback by these comments, additionally, the ladies were now putting me in a difficult situation as i could not take the two of them....
an idea, an idea, an idea was immediately needed but my mind was blank...
The chronicles continues shortly...
Monday, 24 November 2014
UHURU KENYATTA,,,the "Two Chainz President...
The Chronicles today takes a twist as i outline some of the observations your favorite blogger has made over the leadership of his Excellency President Kenyatta II...
Mr. President i mean no insults but i do respect you so much; however, I wish my parents told me this when i was young...
#1. Please son, don't go to campus to study engineering, geo-spatial analysis, actuarial science, medicine, B.com and other scaring courses, just go to a drawing class and learn how to draw Mr. Uhuru Kenyatta and your life would never be the same again..
#2 Do not waste your time cramming lines for an entire play, a 40 pages script to go an compete on the always "unfair" Kenya National Drama Festivals, just write a 3 paragraph poem and recite it to Uhuru, and the State House could be my hang out joint
#3 Son, stop hanging around River Road and Mfangano streets, instead be hovering around State House Road and you might board the same Matatu and take a selfie with our beloved uhunye
#4 Another important thing to note, talk ill about the opposition vehemently, and you will become an M.P of your area without elections, "unopposed."
#4.5 Join NYS, and you could be appearing on the same advert with the most powerful person in 254
#5 Other than Mr. President's tales, this would help you son, Become a blogger, post nude pictures on your blog with such weird titles "The Most Ratchet photos from your fav socialite" or else write about how UK denied you a visa to see River Thames, and the UK ambassador will tweet you with an invitation to his suburb in Gigiri
#6 Without forgetting, my son become a miraculous pastor, perform miracles in exchange of "Mbegu" and you could drive a Range Rover worth 7 million
#7 Lastly, become a radio co-host without any academic qualification, talk nonsense the entire show and you will earn more than the other qualified radio host
Because my parents did not tell me this, I am just a spectator ion of other successful young men. Please Uhuru Kenyatta, take time to read the chronicles of a fresha and may be we can take a selfie together...
i am looking forward to...
still waiting...
loading...
buffering...
Yours Spectatingly,
Vinniewatz Murimi
Mr. President i mean no insults but i do respect you so much; however, I wish my parents told me this when i was young...
#1. Please son, don't go to campus to study engineering, geo-spatial analysis, actuarial science, medicine, B.com and other scaring courses, just go to a drawing class and learn how to draw Mr. Uhuru Kenyatta and your life would never be the same again..
#2 Do not waste your time cramming lines for an entire play, a 40 pages script to go an compete on the always "unfair" Kenya National Drama Festivals, just write a 3 paragraph poem and recite it to Uhuru, and the State House could be my hang out joint
#3 Son, stop hanging around River Road and Mfangano streets, instead be hovering around State House Road and you might board the same Matatu and take a selfie with our beloved uhunye
#4 Another important thing to note, talk ill about the opposition vehemently, and you will become an M.P of your area without elections, "unopposed."
#4.5 Join NYS, and you could be appearing on the same advert with the most powerful person in 254
#5 Other than Mr. President's tales, this would help you son, Become a blogger, post nude pictures on your blog with such weird titles "The Most Ratchet photos from your fav socialite" or else write about how UK denied you a visa to see River Thames, and the UK ambassador will tweet you with an invitation to his suburb in Gigiri
#6 Without forgetting, my son become a miraculous pastor, perform miracles in exchange of "Mbegu" and you could drive a Range Rover worth 7 million
#7 Lastly, become a radio co-host without any academic qualification, talk nonsense the entire show and you will earn more than the other qualified radio host
Because my parents did not tell me this, I am just a spectator ion of other successful young men. Please Uhuru Kenyatta, take time to read the chronicles of a fresha and may be we can take a selfie together...
i am looking forward to...
still waiting...
loading...
buffering...
Yours Spectatingly,
Vinniewatz Murimi
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