THE COASTAL JOB; the 2013 edition

Each match day is an event to look forward to. Be it just a match in the universities league, the national league or those locally arranged Is Moto matches pitching the big boys versus the small lads. But there are events in the hockey calendar a Vulture won’t trade for anything. When I say anything, I mean anything, be it CATS,be it free unlimited ugali at Blessed, even for opportunities ya ‘kudishi bila shati’. Don’t ask me what that means, just Google. I can bet a bull they wouldn’t swap this events even if a truck of Bluemoon overturned and there’s provision of enough liquor to keep them stupid for a year. You should know that’s a big deal because the basic needs of the vulture are earthly food, ‘heavenly food’ and those drinks that makes a teacher awaiting graduation throw reason to the dogs and proclaim profanities. Remember I didn't mention anybody’s name.

The residential training is one such event that is looked forward to with so much gusto.This is a fortnight of nothing but pure hockey .It comes when preparing for the big events like the National games where we are the champions and the East African games where we are the current silver medalists I must add. The residential involves waking up for the morning runs, going for breakfast,resuming training, breaking for lunch, resuming training and the cycle continues. One would wonder what is so interesting about this muscle torture. Nothing. It is just that this is one moment the good university recognizes how much the sportsmen and women of the university bleed and sweat while defending its good name. Not that we don’t appreciate when they give us that hundred bob allowance after using over two thousand shillings to travel from West Pokot to honor a league fixture. The residential training gives us an opportunities of eating some of the delicacies we just see in the food charts in the wall hangings and swallow saliva for while window shopping in the malls of Nairobi. As I said earlier ‘kudishi’ and ‘kudishi bila shati’ are the most sacred activities of this sect.

The league match at Homa Bay is also an event to look forward to. And yes it is because of the opportunity of sampling the local Pisces cuisine. All the Maina Mwangis of the team desires is to visit the capital city of the Nyanza republic, learn some basic skills on hooliganism and partake of this aquatic delicacies that make the Varaqs of the world ooze so much intelligence. And maybe learn something about how we took that thing.

However, the event that retains the number one spot in my sports calendar is the coastal job. It never disappoints. Save for the sweltering heat it is a weekend to look forward to. The itinerary involves doing the business early on Saturday, hitting the beach for the rest of the day, securing a communal room at Kendas Village,showering and crossing the road into Club Lambada. Anybody who has been there will tell you this is the new Sodom,the sin city. A place where you momentarily forget who you are, what you believe in and just indulge in the excesses of the night. I would have employed vivid description to describe to you what goes down there but for fear of excommunication from the church, I’ll just live it at that. That would kill my mother. Just think of anything that would please a party animal with the morals of a chicken and they have it, under one roof. They are the Nakumatts of the night accessories.

This coastal job is thus all about the sideshows, the fun, and the momentary lapse of judgments and of course the effects of drugs and substance abuse. Tomorrow I have a CAT on drugs and substance abuse and I know that my practical examples supersedes all literature and works of some revered grey bearded scholars who think the world of academia is all about tough words and looking phony. So this is my way of rebelling against the education system, of telling them that I will not read their books if I can just watch the effects of these substances on local specimen readily available.

There were however some changes to the coastal job, 2012 edition. The last time my captain was Alpha Male, the slayer of virgins, this time my captain is John Magda the Livewire,the slayer of them all. This guy has surely come a long way. He is the epitome of the epic story that anybody can be what he wants to be if he sets his minds to it. His selection as captain just but puts icing on the story of real transformation of that humble boy from Ingotse Boys who used to train in paper bags as shoes. He arrived in campus three years ago with a Nokia phone that the only recognizable feature in it was the NOKIA brand. It was fastened using a rubber band because the outer cover was loose and thus could easily detach leaving him with a toy for a phone. Now he has a Bird phone to reflect his new status. Rumor has it that he acquired this new device just after the Westgate looting.Word also has it that he has a relations in the KDF. I’m not of course insinuating anything.

omsa's super shoes

This phone has the group SMS application and for a captain’s communication needs it comes really handy. He has however not mustered the use as sometimes the team receives texts that have no contextual meaning

Hey,Mabuda,nakula ugali pambana Blessed

So?

We understand though, technology can be challenging.

Just a week into his leadership, I can confidently say we off to a good start. He led us to a win with a captain’s performance to roost against a team that has best us for years, the Mombasa Institute; managed to get us kicked out of a hotel; managed to get us banned from ever travelling as a team using Guardian Angel to Coast. All in a weekend! And oh, did I mention that he jumped into the Indian Ocean with our allowance?

In my last piece I told you I was arrested thrice in two months. Well, the last arrest came in Mtwapa. The arrest wasn’t by the Kenya Police or the KDF. It wasn’t by the feared MRC either. You won’t believe this.We were arrested by Mr. Wasike,just a Mr. Wasike with the help of Texas Alarms of course. If you see my chest area and see Mr. Wasike’s chest area you’ll know why I’m insisting on the tremendous help he got. You must be asking who this Mr. Wasike is and what constitutional powers he has. Mr. Wasike is the newly promoted assistant manager at Kendas Village. I deliberately put the word newly to justify why he takes his work too seriously.

The only mistake we committed against Wasike is that we loved each other so much, so much that we wanted to share a double room amongst the sixteen members of the team and one super fan. You see absolute power has corrupted Mr. Wasike so much that he forgets sisi wote ni watu wa chama moja. And it’s not like we were planning to sleep any way. His cell wasn’t that bad and as he took his eyes off us to watch some ladies behind for a split second, we bolted off into the deadezt of Mtwapa's nights. So I hear my teammates and I have been declared persona non grata in that premise. You should know this kind of recognition doesn’t come easy. As for the rumors that Mr. Wasike’s face may have received a caress from a small boulder travelling at about 186 miles per second, I’ll neither deny nor confirm that. All I can say is that people should just know people.

Armed with thirty five shillings each, the change from the excesses of Lambada,we headed to a coffee joint, tried resting our head on the tables, without much success I must add. Tired, broke, hazy, wasted, we slowly sipped our coffee waiting for the sun, the bus and for Nairobi. To make more money and to wait for yet another edition of the Coastal Job.

THE INTRIGUING CASE OF THE ABSENTEE BLOGGER

It’s been years since I last wrote. Even, Davy the vampire was asking me why I haven’t posted of late. You know that it is a big deal because his tone wasn’t level, it was rising and that is so when he is seething in anger. Even before I could finish my classical excuse of I just lack the time to write he cut me short.

Bana,kwani ni mastori hauna? cheki tu yule msee

He was pointing at Goddy, the new hockey goalkeeper who was just embarking on his second loaf of bread. According to him the story of the man who guzzled two litres of soda after doing justice to a plate of Ugali would be story enough. He asked me if the stories of grandeur of the Matolos and the Sex gods of the hockey pitch wouldn’t be enough for a two thousand word blog piece. He only let it go when I promised I would write. He gave me a two day ultimatum. You don’t take a threat from a vampire lightly, especially if you want to live and make sure that you actively participate in filling the earth so that Baba arises to presidency even if it means in 2050.

I believe I owe you my good people an explanation for my French leave in the writing circles. I haven’t been challenged health wise or mentally if that’s what you’ve been thinking. I wasn’t arrested because of those Sonko-Shebesh photos. Neither was I arrested for making #giniwasekao a trending topic globally or composing any of those antiestablishment songs the green army chant on their way to Rusinga. I was arrested yes, thrice actually in two months, not for hooliganism but for other reasons that you may know before you get to the last full stop of this piece. I still have political ambitions and since chapter six of the Kenyan constitution on ethics and integrity is still very much alive, I better watch how much information I reveal.

My time behind certain walls has however made me to think of a career in the music industry. After all just like Akon I’m a con. My poetry background could give me the lines and Lady V always says my voice is amazing. My stomach area isn’t bad and anyway pack is pack, whether six pack or one pack. I’m sure ladies would love me topless. As for a crew my guys McHillOwee and Kamau_r would never let me down. We would spit something like

The law fears us

They wanna see us caged

They say we cocked

They wanna see us locked

It did sound better humming it in my head, trust me.

All I need now is a stage name. Any suggestions? Something catchy. I don’t know whether I should be Varaq Lion. After all as ma nigga Snoop says why be a dog if you can be a lion? The only thing that would spoil it for me is my current relationship with sharp objects. To be taken seriously in the gang music industry one needs those tattoos all over the body .Just for that reason only I think I might as well sit on my talent, and think of rap when tattoo is old school and cliché.

So they finally took it. It was just a Compaq Presario CQ62 but at least it served all my needs. It had a library of movies and a disc full of music, a keypad and the wallpaper of some supermodel I used to practice smiling back with. What more would a guy want in a computer. There are those things you never realize how attached to you are until they are gone. Not the supermodel, the computer bwana. What is wrong with you? So if I’ve not been writing just know that I was still nursing the pains of losing the machine. Just for the record, it’s not like I just let the perpetrators go like that .It was a fierce contest, even better than those you see in Spartacus. They may have gone with the machine but I went with the hair of some guy. And don’t start thinking now that I fight like a girl, it’s the end that justifies the means. However, that’s not one of the reasons I was arrested. RIP MZEE-VARAQ PC, you were a loyal friend, we cried together in those sad movies, laughed together in those comedies and you always did as commanded. No arguments when told to sleep, wake, shut down, hibernate, be bright, be louder etc. I know if we don’t meet here on earth, well meet in the next world.

I have also been having some women trouble of late. So much that writing becomes a luxury. When I say women trouble I don’t mean I’m joining FAKU. FAKU is an abbreviation for the Fathers Association of Kenyatta University. It’s a new group that was founded by my friend Matolo to take care of the unique interests of the fathers in Kenyatta University. So if you are one, know that you are recognized, and the world respects what you did while the rest of us were sleeping. 

You know scoring has never been this hard. But this lady is as slippery as the fish and she knows the tricks of the game. She’s the kind of lady who just does a haha after launching one of those classic Varaq lines that others would actually ROTFL for. I’m actually contemplating calling off the semester to launch a full pursuit. On this I refuse to let my community down. So good people, hope you accept that as yet another reason for my hiatus from the blogging community.

I’m now a media advocate with NAYA KENYA. NAYA stands for Network for Adolescents and Youth of Africa .It majorly deals with policy and media advocacy on sexual and reproductive health rights of the youth. As NAYA we believe that an informed youth is a healthy youth and a healthy youth actively participates in the development process of the nation. That’s why we advocate for unrestricted access to sexual information, contraceptives including condoms and long term options for the youth. You might wonder what this has to do with my not writing. You see NAYA introduced me into the world of broadcast media and I find it really fascinating being on radio discussing issues that affects us as youth. But I’m realizing its just like that gorgeous mpango wa kando who sends you into frenzy. The truth remains that writing will always be that first wife I run home to every night after the initial fuzz of the mpango wa kando wears off. The work also involves being out of the county to some locations where writing simply isn’t a priority.

I’m realizing it’s not an easy task juggling between several competing interests like school, work, business, hockey ,relationships etc. In all this the one who is likely to suffer most is the school work. Yes, it may be the most important but the returns are not immediate, let’s say as compared to ‘channeling a new chak’. With attachment reports not done three months after completion of the practicum and the fast rate that deadlines for field reports, term papers, and concept papers are quickly approaching, it just gets so overwhelming. So much that you just want to take your hockey stick and let hockey help you forget everything. Any sportsman would tell you that once on the pitch everything becomes a distant memory. The problem is that the feeling is short-lived. However since my GPA is not on the sick bed I can always let some five marks for a thirty page work just go, just so I could do the writing that I love.

I stay in eastern zone. What does that have to do with writing you might ask? It beats me too. All I know is that the environment is not motivating enough. Maybe it has something to do with the close proximity to Nyandarua hostels where female species ratio to the male population is just so JKUAT. I think I’ll go to the female parks at the gates of Nyayo, watch little Vee smile and watch the backs of those ladies who carry the weight of the world on their back areas just to get motivated enough to write.

Somebody special inboxed me and asked me what I had against kikuyus and their ladies in particular. Well, I must confess I hadn’t realized that until Oyunga Pala mentioned it. Oh yes, I forget to mention, Mzee Varaq is now on twitter name basis with the great Oyunga Pala. I have thus been looking for a different style of writing that tries to avoid mentioning anything about bestiality, domestic violence, husband battering, illicit brew, stolen elections, obsession with Baba, and dislike for Gor Mayienga etc. As you see it is very difficult to talk about real life without some of these tribal stereotypes showing up. I however promised Chichi that I would desist from such references. You can now see why I have nothing to write about.

On a serious note, however, I write for fun and some of the opinions here do not reflect my ideals and belief. I respect women, all Kenyans, all parties even though #wearenotone.

Sorry, gotta go, my mysterious girl is CALLING…….finally.

I’ll definitely tell you about my tribulations at the hands of law enforcement…..if/when the vampire threatens me again.

HOPE HANDS LIFE; WHERE FASHION MEETS HEALTH

Everybody has that one crazy friend, the one that sees nothing wrong in continuously banging your door in the middle of the night until you acquiesce to their demands and just hope they catch the hint and leave. Those friends who after struggling to catch some sleep for hours show up when you just about to slip into slumber land and talk on hours about things you will probably not remember the next day. This is especially trouble if you sent somebody on compulsory leave for the night to attend to ways of increasing Baba’s tyranny of numbers come 2040. The only consolation is that they’ll be the one trying to catch a break next time and you’ll be the one passionately doing the knocking. Payback is a bitch, I heard they said so.

So yesterday Sad News texted me about lunch time. This guy is a nocturnal fellow so when I say lunch time I don’t mean when the sun is overhead but when the moon is overhead, if there’s something like that. I guess this is what happens when the KU director of catering decides to offer meals into the dead of the night. I think upon being Mr. KU the extension of the eating hours is among the first things Sad News advocated for.

‘You guy, how about chicken at the Eastern mess?’

And even before I could reply came a swift rejoinder

‘I’m buying’

What’s the big occasion I thought? Maybe he finally decided to be a good friend and give me some through pass to some super model with the weight of the whole world as her ass and the figure of Hale Berry. Maybe this could be my turn to beat a photo with the likes of KU supermodels like Miss Minky before she goes to KUSA as KU Women Rep, sorry, Gender Secretary. Sad new in all fairness is a generous guy. He is the kind of guy who shows up with hot water in a thermos and those sweet yellow mandazis and claims he was just in the neighborhood. About the high affinity for tea, I get it; he’s an indigenous Luhya, a true half cast between a Luhya father and a Luhya mother, so just like a vampire’s veins screams for blood, his arteries yearn for tea. What I don’t get is the flask bit, surely a heater is a household item in every room in KU!

Any way long story short he wanted me to promote a fashion event for Hope Hands Life, a group that has achieved so much under his leadership. I’m no event promoter but surely the sight of the most beautiful girls in Kenya skimpily dressed displaying their wares, flaunting their thighs, giving the roving eyes of many an immoral men untold pleasure should be enough to promote an event. Turns out that this event isn’t just about legs and cleavage.

I’ve never seen him passionate about something, maybe even more passionate than he was about Ms. Madara, the geography teacher on teaching practice all those years ago. He insisted that I actually suspend chatting with Chichi and start using my phone to start taking notes and listen.

In brief Hope hands Life is now a registered entity that hopes to achieve millennium development goal number five on maternal mortality through fashion by marshaling comrades to do their bit in curbing cancer that is a key threat to the complete sense of wellbeing in Kenya today. It also strives to advocate for the sexual and reproductive health rights of the youth of Kenya.

Hope hands life believe that fashion shouldn’t just be about the glamour, it should be about responsibility, fashion should have an end objective, to sell a product. In this case, not a designer, but a piece of information, not a fashion line but to save lives. And that’s what hope hands life is all about, using the superficial veneer of fashion to achieve a deeper calling.

He tells me a free cancer screening that was organized by the group had shocking results. The VIA/VILLI tests showed that five out of the first twenty to be tested turned positive. This is not a statistic that can be taken for granted. Whereas there could be slight margin of error because of a bias, the truth remains that pretty much everybody knows somebody suffering from either breast cancer or cervical answer. This non communicable disease threatens even the traditional communicable diseases like HIV/AIDS as a course for alarm. The most important woman in my life for example has cancer of the cervix and I know what early diagnosis and appropriate preventive, therapeutic and management services can do. Despite the gloom statistics, there exists a huge gap in awareness creation, sensitization and allocation of resources to address the poor health indicators on the ground.

Have you ever been to a fashion show where the models are pregnant women strutting across the runway like colossuses? I haven’t. Have you ever been to an event that mixes the electrifying mood of the revelers with the somber gesture of passing information?

The most important question for me would be of course how to translate an idea into a workable project that is not only sustainable but whose progress can be measured. In this regard he says Hope Hands Life has so far received enormous support from campus students, corporates and institutions not just in Kenya but all over the world, even as far as Maryland USA.

So far the main sponsors of their activities have been the support of the registered members. Being a member he says, opens doors and gives you an added advantage in the job market with a recommendation letter to most of the organizations, both governmental and non-governmental, entails they work hands in hands with. They have also released merchandise like branded T shirts, trophies and bands that distinguishes you as a supporter of this noble course. There is actually a major auction slated for 12^th November at a venue to be release soon where all customized merchandise will be available. As for the trophies they range in prices from as little as a few thousands to over ten thousands.

The enormous support received so far has enabled them to facilitate health talks on issues of sexual and reproductive health concerns such as cancers, obstetric fistulas created awareness and organized shows where fashion meets health.

You can be forgiven if you forget everything I have been yapping about but mark Fri Nov 1 as an important day. Be at the 680 Hotel Sentrim and have fun at the fashion galore in the event of the year hosted by Hope Hands Life. Be there and show you care, maternal mortality is real, somebody has to do something, that person is not just hope hands life alone, it’s me and you. 

There will be representatives of the county executive committees of the 47 counties as this event will also take Hope Hands from a Nairobi affair to a national affair with offices and activities running at the County level.

You can get more information from Hope Hands Life Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/pages/HOPE-HANDS-life/525782920766154?fref=ts or email hopehandslife@gmail.com.

I was told to write a serious article that is not serious and I’m realizing that it’s not actually not a walk in the park, but I hope I tried.

“Nos veremos allí" ……that’s Spanish for see you there

RESOLUTIONS OF A TIRED FOURTH YEAR STUDENT

YEEY! It’s a new academic year. This year may be significant on very many fronts but it is a great year for me because it is the academic year I get to ‘finish school’. I don’t know about other finishers but I must confess I’m pretty much excited. It just seems like the other day I got a letter from J F Koga congratulating me on passing my KCSE and accepting me into this institution of higher learning. It’s been a long walk, a journey just like one aboard Nya Ugenya Bus from Oyugis to Nairobi .Anyone who has ever had an opportunity to travel to Westy that is Western Kenya using these luxury buses will tell you that it's a long adventurous journey punctuated with couple of arrests along the way, stopovers in the bushes of Ntulele for obvious nature calls, rendezvous with livestock, live and dead fish on the bus just to mention but a few.

I remember with nostalgia those days when we were finishers in a certain primary school in Oyugis.We were treated like kings, given the first opportunity to eat in the tiny dining hall, enjoyed other privileges like ndeko and exemption from manual chores like picking litter every morning and mopping on Wednesdays and Fridays. You would know how a great deal exemption was if your head boy was a gigantic hairy scary monster with a deep husky voice and absolutely no sense of humour. But there’s always one thing our master used to say that the ship capsizes when it is just about to hit the shore and even today if there’s anything I can remember  Mr. Ouko Akeyo Banda for of course apart from his impeccable English and the position of his trousers above the navel is that word of caution.

I have thus taken a deliberate measure to avoid certain things that might jeopardize my chances of squeezing my upcoming belly into the graduation gown.

After careful deliberations, I have made the conclusion to avoid the following people/things:

The kikuyu lady

Before you write me off as a tribal jingoist, allow me to explain why. When I say okuyu am not just talking about the tribe but according to my grand ma’s definition. According to her a kikuyu has certain inalienable characteristics e.g. ;

She has cooked herself....this is direct translation from my mother tongue and it means she’s spotting excessive make ups, a plaster of lipstick on her lips,clean shaven eyebrows marked with thick pencils .She would probably take you to the ICC for accidentally messing with her nails. How is such a woman able to take care of the nutritional needs of a true African man whose favorite meal is homemade Matumbo? She may be an expert in chakula ya bingu but as the son of God once mentioned man must not live on chakula ya bingu alone but ugali too. I think it goes like that. You should know my CRE teacher died before he finished the syllabus.

The kikuyu lady of course loathes Baba and every time Baba is addressing the nation she is quick to ask 

‘ Huyu ogwambo wenu,si aretire 2 polepore?”

In my four years of campus to be fair ,I haven’t seen anything not to like in them but ma grandma,Getruda  was very explicit in telling me not have anything with them.

I hear  anything is possible with them  including conception via osmosis, so  I need to stay away from any possibilities lest my Getruda's worst nightmares  come true that I’m married somewhere in Karatina and I have to ask for permission from Wambui if I'm to go to the County. 

Nyayo 1 Hostels

When I say Nyayo 1 Hostels here I don’t really mean that specific hostel, I meant all ladies hostel that strongly adhere to the ten to ten rule. I think I’ve gotten enough sexual escapades to tell my sons the story of how I met their mother. I’ll avoid Nyayo 1 because we all know what happens when you hear the dreaded housekeeper’s voice. The sudden influx of ideas ,whether to hide behind the door, or the bed or just to believe you are athletic enough and go for the dive from the second floor of the hostels. Let’s just say that am not looking forward to the possibility of a displaced limb over a moment of pleasure. Aruji is expecting her son to graduate with all the limbs intact.

Riots

If you ever thought that you are just but an anonymous face in sea of KU students, you couldn’t be more wrong. If you have ever doubted if the system works then don’t try anything now, trust me, she see’s everything. Even if Ouru ‘steals the referendum’,  just as he is likely to do, I will not be joining any riots or demonstrations in campus or even grace the media with any of my prepared thoroughly researched statements calling upon who to do what,or severely criticing person z,maybe just showering praise upon the Queen Mother of KU. It thuse goes without saying that I will not call a press conference in campus condemning the 16% VAT on certain essential commodities. I love my tribe, am loyal to Luoism, I worship it but no, whenever you decide to protest against Ouru or stolen KUSA elections, count me out.

I will not be participating ,watching or having anything to do with demos this year

Passing through Githu

I’m now a very busy man, shuttling between serious conferences with senior health officials in this republic and social interactions that I won’t be having time to go connect and aboard those Matatus that consistently loose brakes or just erupt into smoke barely five minutes from being pushed to start. This will also enable me to phase out the coins from my pockets. I cannot risk coin holes in the pockets of my expensive imported Chino pockets. There aren’t any local spare parts as of yet. Mzee Sad new and Mzee Ragen my fellow chino people will confirm the same.

Mwakenya

If there’s a long and serious relationships that has passed the test of time and could even put to shame Alejandro and some girl in this soapies it’s the love Mwakenya and I share. I still remember summarizing all the geography notes from form 1 to form four in half a page green A4 paper. It’s not that you have to use it but its presence in the exam room gives you confidence and assurance that you’ll never walk alone. Google too has been generous all this year’s especially in the units whose lecturers are prospecting for Gold in Migori and thus have not imparted any knowledge upon a willing head. I’m not the kind of guy to just drop a loyal ally like that but the proverbial forty days of a thief may soon catch up with me. This academic year is thus a year of honesty, integrity and all those things we used to cram to pass CRE. In all fairness to my brain I don’t think it can be that bad to drop my GPA by double digit.

People who drink Bluemoon

Bluemoon here is not a brand, but refers to all those brews which concocted herbs and some grotesque materials and quickly labeled tipple distilled. These categories include all types of alcohol which are served with warm water as the mixer or ingested using straw.  This category also includes all manner of experimenting with drugs, solutions and plants that induce highness. One again Aruji is expecting a degree not a blind son or a mentally deranged cohabiter destroying the peace and tranquility she’s enjoyed throughout this years.

K’Ogalo Matches
 K’Ogalo matches are state events and thus I’m obligated to attend. However, I think it’s definitely time to cut on hooliganism a little bit lest I be caught in the cameras pelting motorists with stones and singing anti-establishment songs. Bwana am now a media personality, writing for some serious magazines and discussing issues health concern in international radio stations like Mayienga FM. You should know that this is  a big deal especially because articulating sexual and reproductive health issues in Luopean is not child's play.

People not calling Mzee

This is of course very important and non negotiable. The busara that oozes out of this head definitely requires recognition. You’ll serve to remind me that I’m finishing school and thus accelerate the process of looking for the perfect mate to share  with this quality seeds of an athletic, intelligent……handsome, Luo .

Have a jubilee year, won’t you?