Theories of the Cracked Lip

So my lips have finally healed. You might be wondering how that affects you. Well it doesn’t. Maybe it does. But you just have to be in my shoes to understand that a swollen lip generates more attention than a terror alert. Okay, I’m exaggerating a little bit. The lips is among the most conspicuous places to have a defect albeit temporarily. Everybody notices and seeks to ask you what happened, how you feel, if it is painful etc. Of course it is painful! Just for the record I have no problem against people showing concern when a tragedy befalls a comrade, but it gets cliché to explain to every acquaintance, friends, random people on the streets what circumstances led to a sagging lip. How long it will take to heal, whether I can still kiss or eat comfortably.

Everybody has some wild theory that they think would suffice. The ex girlfriends would for obvious reasons want to believe that I was bitten by an overzealous inexperienced new lover who thinks kissing is a battle of teeth. With a feigned concern they then will inwardly say, ‘serves him right’.

The religious friends would want to believe that I ingested too much of the COOH group and in my stupor rushed forward to head butt the ground with a little help from gravity. Their theory is of course supported by the fact that my fingers and leg are covered with bruises and sores and my skin cover is as smooth as of a person with scabies. Maybe they will use ‘my story’ as an anecdote before they start their next summons condemning the ways of the youth and just how alcohol and drugs are vanity. You know how it is with preachers, they are divine gossips. For the record, I have no problem when my story is used to motivate and uplift others. It’s just that I have a reputation to protect. 

Johende would of course propel the story that I got in a fist fight while fighting over a lass and somebody finally showed me my place. It’s Johende good people, she is allowed to say anything. Now Johende is a friend of mine who sells, shirts, vests, handa etc. Handa is just a polite word in my language that refers to boxers, pants, G strings and things like that. Johende is thus a person who deals with issues hende. Well apart from her part time jobs of studying public health and selling inner wears, her main job is stirring controversies and arguments. She’s the kind of person who doesn’t have an opinion until she hears yours and immediately realizes it’s fatally flawed. She has a strong gift of garb and strong business acumen. She’s the kind of person who can sweet talk you into buying a necklace labeled Fauzia for future use if/when you get a girl called so. It doesn’t matter that the kind of Kiswahili you know is just sufficient to say I’m thirsty or it’s hot and not sufficient to mount a serious suit. She isn’t the kind of person to just leave a nigga hanging. As part of her after sales services she would give you some pointers and Swahili pickup lines….

Buibui lako la meremeta kama parapanda za Zayuni

That’s Johende for you. I hope she isn’t reading this. I wouldn’t want to get a fresh lip injury just a few days after sneaking food in lest the sores in the lips feel the taste and scream.

Sorry I got off topic, I just wouldn’t want you to continue living without knowing people.

Forget about all those theories that are being peddled by people who want to bring me down politically. The truth is that I was hit by a cork. Okay, stop squirming in your seat. Not that cork, that’s for the Binyavanga’s, I mean a hockey cork. It’s what in football you people call ball. I don’t understand why all this sports equipment and paraphernalia have to have names with a sexual overtones….balls, shoot, D, score, corks, sticks etc. Maybe the ideas for this games were conceived when people were doing you know what. Maybe I’m just a pervert. 

And why you would one still play hockey when it is that obvious it is that a dangerous sport. You see hockey is not dangerous; it can just be harmful at times. I swear that sounded better in my head. You may just lose your entire dental formula, an eye or both, or even your treasured balls. That’s why if you can’t store your seeds in some laboratory it is probably a wise investment to join the Fathers Union of Kenyatta University now lest your lineage die with you. 

There can never be another explanation for continued engagement with the sport apart from consuming passion. It is like those KDF soldiers who put their lives on the line each day in the warfronts of Mogadishu to defend our territorial sovereignty. Once again that’s another inappropriate comparison, but you get it.

I have a strong feeling this could be my sports year. With four rounds of matches to go and sitting at the helm of the Kenya national Hockey league, I can almost see the Vultures lifting the cup and going doing the annals of history .I know anything can happen in the world of sports but even while taking caution not to jinx the moment; that would be the perfect way to crown my university sports career. So for just this two months, I will bear your theories of broken lips and bruised skins, I will give my all for my team and for myself. For just these two months I will marry my hockey and hope it gets pregnant with medals.

Sometimes you forget how it is like to be whole, not to have a single scar on your body, not to have a cut. Sometimes you don’t remember the last time you could comfortably deep your fingers in a bowl of hot soup and not feel the biting sting of salt on a bruise. But yet every weekend, every match day you still line up to defend your pride, your ego, your team, your basic desire for winnings.

That’s sports for you. That’s passion for you. That’s adrenaline. That’s hunger. That’s desire.

Surviving Valentine's

Its February folks! Let’s face it January is never our favorite month of the year. It is the month that we get reminded that life has to go on after the excesses of December. It’s more like when in your state of inebriation you forget that you are not Bill Gates and decide to sponsor half the bar to whatever they are drinking on a Friday night only to request for a soft loan on Monday so that you get the fare to work. January is laced with fatigue and great fiscal demand that you sometimes wonder if the sun is ever going to rise again.

But not February. The month is synonymous with very many things but none as prominent as Valentines. It’s great to be in love I must add. For those of us who are always single around this time of the year, I get you brothers, life is hard. And to those who made one mistake and are paying for it for  the rest of their lives in the friend zone, I’m sorry for you but that's life for you. For those who are in monogamous, polygamous, polyandrous relationships either by consent or through ignorance, it’s ok. Life is still hard. What matters is that you are in some sort of a relationship and you matter.

What I have never understood though is the fascination with February the 14th. I have never understood why I have to wait for the day to tell the person who matters in my life that they do. I have never understood why March the 4^th or Friday the 13^th for example is not a great day to visit your florist and buy a bouquet of roses for your Juliet. And forgive me if I don’t understand why real love is equated to mere materials like expensive ornament, posh restaurants and Gucci dresses. Please don’t stone me just yet, just make me believe why I should make you happy for one day and set the foundation for disappointment for the other 365 days? But don’t worry, just so that I don’t appear analogue I’ll download megabytes upon megabytes of digital flowers and send to you. After all a flower in whatever form is still romantic, right? Maybe thinking like that is why I’m single and depressed around Valentines.

Just so we are clear, I do believe in love. Love that’s not boastful, that’s pure and all those things listed in Ephesians. Don’t look at me that way, I do read my Bible. There are those couples who met each other in the matriculation ceremony in 2010 when we were joining campus and four years later they are still going strong. They inspire me. They make me believe that maybe there’s that one person with whom the world will stop existing. There are those relationships which didn’t survive the lifecycle of a housefly yet there are those who survived the gestation period of an elephant. There are those girls whose ‘uncles’ disappeared in the thin air after professing their undying love and getting the cookies. But yet life has to move on.

So for my friends who wish to play Alejandro this Valentines here are some pointers and romantic suggestions.

Invite her over for a movie

Being a student you’ll agree with me that the semester is not in a good place. Heck, it’s never a great time in campus. Not if you are just a regular Joe with seven siblings in high school and a parent  relying on the proceeds of Sossion's strikes. However, I'm a man who believes that such little nuisances like financial inability shouldn't stop a guy from doing what he wants to do. What’s more romantic than watching a movie together? It doesn’t have to be at IMAX, she should know that the European commission has issued a security alert and that’s why it is probably a good idea that you remain indoors. It goes without saying that your roommate should be in exile then.

All you’ll need are popcorns worth forty shillings from the shopping center. Make sure your date knows they are from the shopping center. It is such finer details that will earn you respect. A good choice of movie would be the banned Wolf of Wall Street for the obvious reasons. The movie runs for a whole three hours which would mean that there isn’t much time for other activities unless it is indoors. The scenes of tits and ass that are in plenty would also mean that you don’t have to struggle too much to get some Valentines action….if you know what I mean. The movie is available at Sumu Movies in KM. Hope the government is not reading this.

The introduction of the food outlets in campus is a miracle straight from goddess Venus herself. Hundred shillings is enough for three plates of well cooked pilau. Since some of these ladies don’t know the meaning of dates, it is important to have a hundred bob more just in case four of her friends tag along. If she comes with an extra mouth, you can always feign an a phone call and leave them to their devices. She isn’t sensitive to the hard economic tribulations you going through and thus she doesn’t deserve you. If she asks for juice or soda you need to inform her of the high cases of morbidity and mortality from diabetes. Sorry, that’s just diseases and deaths from excessive sugars. Just by appearing knowledgeable, your cash will be saved for more pressing needs like treating yourself to ngwacis from Burundi.

Kenyatta university arboretum is actually a great place too for lovebirds. It’s not just the serenity, or the somberness that makes the place a lover’s paradise but its remoteness too. When I say remoteness I actually mean that it is far from the tempting smiles of fries and chicken hovering around most luring establishments that only thrive by fleecing us. Just so that she doesn’t say you 'left her with a dry mouth', it would be good for your portfolio to carry two liter bottled soda and a sheet and some ginger biscuits. Now that’s a fun picnic! And of course you need to remember to return the bottle to the shopkeeper so that he can return to you your deposit. Bwana this is Nairobi. Ok, we are in Kiambu County, but you get it.

For those of you who believe so much in the flowers, I told you what you need to do earlier. However, if you want to do things the old way then Mzee Varaq still has your back. The good university has a medicinal plant unit that plants crops for herbal use and research. You can always feign interest in botanical research and I’m sure you’ll get some yellow or red weeds that can actually pass as  flowers. There is no harm in rubbing them with your Solea perfumed petroleum jelly .Apart  from the amazing scent; it will look shiny and fresh. Just make sure that the weeds you use aren’t poisonous, allergic or capable of causing acute dermatological reaction. Just in case anything happens and your date swells like mandazis rush her to the health unit. Don’t worry about the costs so long as she is a student, the generous university will treat her for free. If she isn’t then maybe you need to include her in your NHIF cover before next week.

There is of course the other issue of some exotic drinks   for toasting to a great past and an even grander future. For normal people who are on the payroll of the United Nations and the Deloittes of the world, a bottle of fine champagne will come in handy. In case you wish to downgrade, Jamesons, Gignac or Johnny Walker are the worst that a Nairobi girl can accept for Valentines. Just coz she knows this brands by name doesn’t mean that she can actually differentiate between a Jameson and a Meakins. Some of these ladies are all talk yet behind the scenes they guzzle spirits of death at Mbugus. So buy your cheap drink, house it in an expensive brand bottle and Voilla they will sing your name till the sun comes down. After all Valentines is supposed to be a time of creativity and surprises. Whatever you do, don’t buy Bluemoon and house it. That they’ll know. It is their breakfast over here. And another thing remind her to go slowly after all you won’t want her too wasted for the final act or worse, blind?

You can’t be breaking up with your girl three times in a row around February and making up in March and expect her not to notice that it has something to do with Valentines. Whatever you do just don’t get caught.

Happy valentine’s good people!