Are all men dogs?

So am seated in a  matatu going home after a long hard day talking about condoms and sex. Interesting work, right? It may appear so, but sometimes you get so tired you just want to get to bed, and snore. It’s ironical, right? That you talk about CDs all day and you never get to use them, not even if u wanted to, not even if you were getting home to Halle Berry.

I’m the last passenger to get in so that means I get to sit at the back. For those who use matatus you know how these backseats of Embassava can be. But you have no option because you’re not sure when the next bus will come. So you squeeze your knees together, pay your fare, put your phone on silent mode and ship it to your back pocket and wait for sweet sweet sleep to come. Putting your phone in your back pocket is merely a precaution. It’s not to say you don’t trust other people. It is just acknowledging that this is Nairobi.

You don’t struggle, after a while you are off to slumber land. One hour is sufficient time for my sleep. The driver must be mad because he’s driving and I’m snoring, so he keeps hitting potholes jolting me awake. I give up my attempt to sleep and check my phone. The messages are not from useful people. Just kawaida people like Baroson informing me of his marital problems with mama mboga.

Then I notice these two beautiful girls ahead of me. I wonder how I hadn’t noticed them before. In their heads they must be whispering, but it so loud I bet somebody five rows ahead could hear. They are talking about John.(Not my cousin). From the conversation, it’s apparent he must be one of the ladies’ guy. The aggrieved party is pouring her heart out how John never texts these days, how he put some woman's picture as his profile picture on Facebook with a caption, ‘THIS IS US’.

                       She isn't even beautiful.

                       She isn't even his type.

The friend who had been listening with feigned interest blasts out, “…all men are the same! They are all dogs.”

I wanted to join the conversation and assure the nice lady that all men aren’t the same but they would accuse me of eavesdropping, which I wasn’t technically. They were just loud.

This reminded me of all the posts on social media of all heartbroken girls who as part of their grieving process equate all men to dogs.

Not all men are the same ladies. Some are circumcised, some are not (kihis), some are circumcised without anesthesia at River Nzoia, and some are circumcised in the comfort of a hospital theatre. They are all men, but they are different. My mentor, Juma Juma, and his traditional circumciser friend Matolo remind me every day that bhe khulupao (those circumcised in hospitals) are not real men. That’s a discussion for another forum.

Yes, some men are dogs, but others are warthogs, chickens, hyenas, bears, lions, cockroaches, pigs, donkeys, bears, snakes, bedbugs etc.

Cockroaches.

The cockroach is an unwanted parasite. It signifies filth and dirt. But a cockroach also has other qualities. It feasts on dirty sufurias on the ground floor and then climbs up to the second and third floors. If you have been to some of these institutions of higher learning you’ll attest to what I’m saying. Not about the cockroaches silly, about the men. The cockroach is a man with a girlfriend in Nyayo 1 Hostel room 13, room 113, 213 and so on. You think this doesn’t happen? Pay more attention.

The snake.

The serpent is perhaps as low as it gets, literally and figuratively. In fact had it not been for the serpent we all could be seating calmly in Eden drinking fruit juices and hanging out with lions. I’m not sure God would have allowed technology, but imagine Instagram photos with lions and leopards. The captions would be like #macrew #werule #bffs #selfination #selfie #chilling #tagsforlikes #YOLO #Eden.

Back to the bad snake. The snake is also known for biting people close to it. A snake in a relationship would be that ex who goes around telling people how you couldn’t get it on. You know what I mean. If not ask Colonel Moustapha.

The pig

The pig is the animal which feasts on trash in dustbins and places full of filth. The pig here is the man who goes to fill his thirst in those places of ill repute. He doesn’t like home cooked meals, he likes it thrown around in the streets. And by meal hope you know am not talking about ugali.

The Hyena

This is the ultimate scavenger. The man who feeds on left overs and prey too weak to defend themselves. This is the man who waits for bigger men to hunt and bring down the antelopes and the impalas, choose their best parts and discard the rest. The hyena is that guy who waits for breakup signs between his friends and their girlfriends and like lightening swoop in. It doesn’t matter how he gets in even if it means painting you as Lucifer reincarnate. To the hyena, the end justifies the means. This man also goes after fragile ladies just left and the ones with the self confidence of negative five. Don’t judge people, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

The cock (Not that cock, the male of a chicken)

The cock is known for bad behavior. If someone ever tells you that you have the appetite of a cock then you must really be having some serious appetite. This is the man who gets it on in the middle of a public park and doesn’t relax until his needs are met. This man is also pretty generous. Why make one hen happy when you can make the entire farm happy? It goes without saying that too many cocks in a single shed is a recipe for disaster.

The donkey

This is the beast of burden. The donkey is the man who toils hard with no significant reward. He is the guy who does the menial labor like carrying shopping, acting as security, fixing broken doors and pipes and stuff like that. It goes without saying that a donkey’s reward is in heaven and not here on earth.

The lion

This is the king. He oozes confidence and always gets what he wants, whenever he wants it. He is admired by foe and ally. All other males recognize he is THE man. These are the kind of men you greet with your head facing his 'bigness'. If the hyenas and the pigs were to come back in another life they would defintely want to come back as lions.  Barney Stinson would be the perfect example.

The bear

The bear is a very beautiful animal. It’s the sort of animal that looks like it could take away all your problems  with just a hug from its furry body. The bear, however, can be rough, aggressive and antagonistic. The bear is the man who looks responsible and good outside but can be pretty abusive and rough at home. He is the kind of man that would make your colleagues refer to you as that girl who falls off the stairs every night.

The bedbug

How could I forget the bedbug? KU alumni will tell you that bedbugs are such a nuisance that you’d rather watch a series the whole night than to try to sleep. The bedbug is the man who won’t just go away even after fumigating, pouring hot water and exposing him to the sun. He sucks your blood to his fill and just won’t leave you alone even for a night. By blood I don’t mean blood.

There are men with other different characteristics. There is the warthog who forgets your birthdays, your dates, your anniversaries and all those dates you think are important. There is the smelly skunk, there’s the tricky hare and the list is endless.

See, dogs are not that bad as you ladies think. The dog may vomit, but it will get the vomit back into the mouth to be digested again.

And oh, I didn't forget to mention the frog. This is the man who despite making the loudest noise will still not stop the cows from quenching their thirst from his stream. Yes, he is insignificant like that.

Have an animal week, won't you?

Guest Post: A girl that reads books

Today the Jack of all Trades is honoured to host a man of no mean repute. He is a guy who has taught me a lot in life and giving him this platform to entertain you gives me so much pleasure.  He is a man who intrigues and makes you want to know more. He is the kind of guy you go to when you want to know why the Egyptians built the pyramids or if Osama is really dead.

He will tell you about Syria and Israel, about the cold war and the Hehe Rebellion, about the state of the Pyongyang economy and still find time to tell you about how Arsenal are gonna lift a trophy this season. I heard you said the FA cup is just a cup. 

When you reach the 1000th word, you are likely to ask me, just like the guests at that wedding in Galilee did ask the host, “Why did you wait till we got drunk before bringing the sweeter wine?”

See, I can quote several verses of the Bible. Today is however not about me, it’s about my cousin Jojo. Sorry, he wants to appear professional so well call him John.

Ladies and gentlemen without much further ado I present to you………………..

A girl that reads books 

19:30Hrs , Nakumatt  Lifestyle, Kenya ; East Africa

I throw another glance at the pair. I love the clatter they make as I climb the stairs to the book section. I’m referring to my brown Italian shoes. Authentic is what the salesman called them. I could see that in every thread that brought the parts together.  I am finally there. looking at the books but not knowing which author would intrigue me most. Then I notice her. 

She has short hair that get nothing other than regular comb and trim. However, on a second thought, I think she does something else to her hair because they do not look like mine. They are healthier.

From what I can see from her back, she has an average African body size. Nothing that would make any man turn or get a wild scolding from his significant other because of diverted attention. That’s not what this is about. It is about the books section that interests her and the book she is holding. She is in the biographies section. 

Few Kenyans read, goes the general opinion. They say that during the post-election violence, no bookshops were raided and looted and that adds to the proof that we do not read. It may be true. However, I argue that even if most Kenyans read books, the bookshops would not be looted because people who read books do not do looting.  Simply put, if you read books, you will not be usurped into the popular culture propelled by media and we would be set free from political manipulations. 

Back to her: She is simple. Flat shoes, decent skirt, and a cardigan that I cannot describe by its color. Most of the colors I know are there. She does not have earphones on her ears so she is mature; no offense. She twitches her feet showing that she is feeling the book in her hand, so it is hers not her fathers or boyfriend. Aha she reads. ..

About the twitching, there is this guy called Jacob from way back when we were young. He has all the theory about girls although nobody has ever seen him talk to a girl. Jack’s thesis is that if she gently twitches, you have full attention. 

Back to her: the book she is holding has a guy with a thick mustache. A mustache that makes the guy look like a pedophile or a child molester (not my opinion, borrowed from Orange is the New Black). It’s a book about Iosif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili, for those who just read motivational books and do not expand their knowledge he is Joseph Stalin. For the sake of those who just watch American movies and do not get the real facts, he influenced the global politics after the Second World War. He is a great man in his measures. 

Going for a date with her would be interesting. I know that now. I make bold strides toward her garnering all the confidence that I need to suppress my anxiety and fear. She would be an interesting person to know and she is one of her kind. I haven’t seen her face yet but I do this. That is called first impression. 

I’m John…

 I would have said, Hi I am John. But these are different times they require different approaches.

Ok John….She responds

Im stunned. She looks like Chidima, the musician. By my standards, heaven knows, she is pretty.

How do I respond to Ok John…How?  I’m off the game. This is the time someone should call me then I move away to re strategize.   

I collect myself and call out in a shaky voice..That is a good read. 

She looks at me oddly and stay mum…you love your work. She says after an awkward silence. She could tell her look shook me. However, her words, which were meant to comfort, sunk me deeper. She thought I was a Nakumatt book attendant. 

How do I pick from here…I scratch my head. All the confidence I gathered from my Italian shoes evaporates.

19:30Hrs , Donholm, Kenya ; East Africa

I am with Linda, the lady from Nakumatt. Yes, I turned things around. It was easy, she is different I can say and I am good maybe. She is seated right across me. We are having a hearty conversation. It is easier to have a conversation with a lady who has a wide scope of understanding because there is a lot you can say. It is like watching an Arsenal match. There is always something to everything. It is just captivating. 

I crack a joke, she laughs. It was a dry joke..Mhh…does she like me? As I am still wandering in my mind to get my response. I am disappointed when  she says “ by the way..that reminds me of ..” That means that she is not laughing at my joke, she is laughing at what the joke reminds her. 

We talk about politics, not the referendum and kusema na kutenda type, politics with manifesto and ideologies. We talk about history, then local current affairs but still not local politics. 

It’s the way she speaks that interests me. Her diction and pronunciation of English is different. She communicates more than she says. Her opinion speaks a lot about who she is. She is an independent thinker. Not the type that has to say it and you start thinking of when she even used her brain.  You can get that she is an independent thinker by her reasoning. 

 We are talking about why people use abbreviations in texts. I criticize the younger generation for using abbreviations unnecessarily even in events when abbreviating means using more characters. Anybody would side with me on this. She argues differently. She feels communication is more than just saying the words. It is about expression of the mood at the time. “ For instance” she says, “when  I text poa and pouwa, I say the same thing but with a different meaning, same to sasa and xaxah.” Mhh..so you can learn something while on date with a girl from Nairobi ( I would have said Nairobian girl, but the word makes me sound shallow, talk of words with more than one meaning). 

There is much to say about the date other than her…the venue, what she ate, who else was there, what she wore, and much more. However, when you are in date with a girl that read real books, she is all you notice. To bachelors, the church is infested by fakes leaving minority good ones…if you are still looking for the wife, look in the bookshops before they get there.

The Nyayo Love Zone

Sometime next week you’ll notice similar posts on your timeline. Most of them will be from KU students who are just coming from a long long holiday. If you were stricken by the JAB curse you’ll know how long these holidays can be especially if your home is somewhere in Nyakemicha, Nyamira or West Pokot. 

And since these KU students are everywhere, you’ll notice when they post.

In my village when a man’s ‘thing’ has filled his hands, he is required to build a ‘lion’. Those who, for some reason, cannot build their own ‘lions’ are required to go ‘chase sleep’ elsewhere. And that’s what I hear good old Mugenda has decided to do.

Since you cannot build your own ‘lion’ in the university, all fourth year students have been asked to go ‘’chase sleep in Kahawa or Githurai or Ruiru or those little towns sprouting around Thika Road, sorry Thika superhighway.

However, that’s not what the good comrades will be posting on. You are likely to see statuses that will impress you, motivate you and put a smile on your face; A wry smile.

              Finally its coming to an end….I missed school!

              KU here I come

They are also likely to get creative and start hash tags and abbreviations that have capabilities of trending especially now that Kenyatta University is just as congested as Muthurwa Market. Something like,  

#TGIOT

You don’t know what that means? I didn’t know what it meant too until I invented it just now.

That’s an abbreviation for ‘Thank God Its Opening Time’!

It’s unfortunate that I won’t join my comrades in making such trends but I’ll be with them in spirit. 

It’s not that I don’t love my university; it’s just that barring any unforeseen circumstances like retakes and missing marks I should be an alumni soonest.

These are the few moments I wish all parents and lecturers could be on Facebook and Twitter. They could be impressed by the zeal exhibited by young men and women towards their education.

You and I however know that we don’t miss our 7am classes, nor the laboratory session or the takeaway assignments. You and I know that in as much as we miss the postmodern library, it’s not the books or the journals that appeal to us, it’s in the assurance that your unlimited internet needs are sorted out for the next three months. It’s in the knowledge that despite the university spending a lot of resources putting firewalls and blocking non educative channels like YouTube, you will always find a way of downloading the latest episode of the Vampires Diaries.

But that isn’t the main reason you want to go back. You miss exiles. Not being ‘beaten’ exile but ‘beating’ somebody exile. You have organized for a roommate who understands these things. If not, you are arranging for one. If not,………

When I was a kid and we used to play football all the good players would ‘yiero’ themselves and get into one team leaving a very imbalanced team that soaked in goals that would make Brazil look like angels. It goes without saying that I was always on the losing team. During those games I had more red cards than goals. But that’s not what we are talking about here.

I brought it up just to show you that good players need good players on their team.

In this regard, you need to avoid roommates who don’t have girlfriends. These are people who despite your best attempts to give them signs they won’t just leave. It’s during that time they see you with a beautiful lady they start boiling githeri.

These are the roommates that get you so vexed that you text them, “Buda niaje?’

There response isn’t just annoying; it’s embarrassing.

                             “Varaq,mbona unanitext na tuko wote hapa”

Once gain people, this is not about me or how to choose a good roommate. Talk to my secretary well, I may do that story. I know somebody’s life depends on it.

You miss campus because of Friday nights and Saturday nights and Sunday nights and any other night where you pay your weekly contributions to the Keroches and the EABLs.

You miss slogans like YOLO. All you say during the long holiday is AOL. (Am tired)

You miss your bareback dresses and your hot pants. You miss your kinky outfits which would warrant banishment should you wear them at the village. 

The main reason however why these people miss campus is the love zone. It’s beautiful just like in those romantic movies and Philippine soaps you guys watch. If you are a visitor to KU you’ll just know you are there. It’s like an endless queue of humanity mounting a guard of honor.

Here’s where men and women hold each other tight, whispering sweet nothings to each other making you feel

 “…damn, I need to get a girlfriend, something serious; something everlasting”.

The biting cold is no inhibitor to the perfect scent from your doting partner, the look on her eyes as the moon reflects. The love zone is picturesque. Perfectly leveled flowers on either side of the dim lights making the well mowed grass look like an endless beauty of a carpet.

It’s a lovely place to be. Couples come from as far as the leafy suburbs of Mfumbiro and the deserted hostels of Ruwenzori go there every night to renew their vows, their love and their commitment to each other.

In a cold night under the clear skies, people just glow and at that moment, mark my words, all you want is to talk till the sun comes up.

Here, guided by the gods of love, one just knows the right things to say, the perfect moment to listen and that perfect opportunity to lean forward and grab that kiss that you’ve done a thousand takeaway assignments for and carried huge loads from the main gate to Nyayo Hostels for.

You should meet the lovebirds when the sun is up. The night’s vows are all forgotten. Wherever possible people use different lanes and routes. You can’t blame them. This is a busy university. After all, their parents didn’t send them to campus to play Alejandros.

For my friends from Nyakimencha joining the good campus, your dreams are valid. Don’t worry about your accent, it will go away, it has to go away…………..if you are to act in the biggest romantic movie ever shot.

I’m out.

In Other News

My friend Sad News tells me he wants to vie to be the president of the Love Zone. He assures me he’ll put in benches and make the lights dimmer. He is also promising to lobby the university management for a music system so that couples can waltz and swirl to slow and soothing Celine Dion Music.

When I get more details on his presidential bid, I’ll tell you about it.