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 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.
