GUEST POST: Socket in the Toilet

Editors Note:

You guys remember Mr Kerre D'yesan, right? Yes, the sex god. Yes, the guy famous for not closing the door, especially when he's doing his stuff. Yes, that guy who as of December 2014 was still operating a worn out Nokia something something series.  (Those that only have the flashlight as a feature to brag about). Yes, that guy whose bffs are maize flour, ingokho, kamataho, kamaturu and nini. Yes, that guy who did that piece on Sports Pesa.

 

And apparently he studies engineering now. Tihihihi. I swear am not laughing.

He is back with this lovely piece.

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Socket in the Toilet.

Physics was all about making life easier, or so we were told. For the 16 years I’ve studied it both in general science and Mechanical Engineering, the only work it made easier was that of nobody. I’m sure it took my primary school teacher at least six slices of his breakfast bread to cane the stupidity out of each of our dry backs. Well, as for Mr. Gala, my high school all time not-favorite teacher my sure guess is two whole meals to the least (on his laziest day). All the physics I knew was defined by those lashing moments. 

Psychology has it that the mind is controlled virtually by past and present experiences. For a lad like me, taking that to the university would mean PTSD or PTDS whichever is correct. (I do Mechanical Engineering remember?)  I remember buying a wheel spanner and a pair of heavy plastic gloves six hours after I got my admission letter to pursue mechanical engineering ( I just had to make sure you remembered) at the great Kenyatta University. Little did I know that those were meant for watu wa mkono in most of these garages around city centers. 

Six years down the line I have managed to acquire a ‘third’ hand android phone. The sweetest thing about it was and still is the WhatsApp chat forum. For most of the phones I had borrowed from my friends to ‘sportpesa’ with, I always caressed the screen gently like picking dew from the feeble grass stalks without them trembling in the process. But for this phone, I had to literally scrub the screen surface for a letter to be reproduced on the screen as print. My physics lessons now made more sense.

Chatting into the wee hours of the night and on every opportunity I got made my eyes almost drop out. Half of what I was typewriting during this time was either taken straight from a movie or the numerous RnB’s I listened to while chatting. Funny, they never knew. This might also have been the reason why I left the door open on that fateful day that has forever made me a legend in this blog.

So, like any other android phone, the battery couldn’t keep up as much as I did with the lies. It took maximally three hours from the continuous pounding and scouring on the opposite side of its bed. Now I sit in this toilet looking around. I always carry the charger in the pocket like the early man did with his knife or weapon lest he descended on dinner in his everyday hunting escapades. Like the early man, I too hope to pounce on my prey- a socket or a free USB port on Pokot’s laptop.  

But this one very crucial place lacks a socket. The one place I go every evening after fiercely battling Mzee Dabuz and Sumu at the Battle De Ugali. You should know you don’t fight against such experienced pure Luhya men in eating the Luhya cake without expecting to visit the crucial place. I’m having a number two and this might take a whole hour. That’s long enough for six of them to suspicious and start making calls. My phone is already off. 

Dear physics, talk to architects and have them install a socket next to this magnificent seat of equality. Or better yet, just install an android system in my Motorola CI13. 

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Engage him on Twitter @CptAllan .