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?

WHY AM NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO THE NEW ACADEMIC YEAR

One sure way of knowing the new semester is on the horizon is the slow resurrection of the till-semester-do-us-part relationships just like vegetation burgeons with the onset of the rains. People who said good bye somewhere in April and pledged how much they’ll miss you will start proclaiming their undying seasonal love. They will start by a subtle message of,” Babe, kukumiss nayo” and probably ask whether good old Cheboi, he of HELB has ‘done something’. They then will proceed to ask you if you got a room not coz they care but because of obvious reasons that you understand cannot be said in this blog if I am to retain my church membership.

Mzee Varaq is however not looking forward to the new semester and who to open my heart to than you my faceless people? Just for the record it is not coz I’m not looking forward to my sweet till-semester-do-us-part soul mate but for other reasons that are of more depressing nature.

The good old director accommodation and her team, in their infinite wisdom, decided to give me a room in Nyayo Three as a present for my final year in Campus. Now, as you might be aware this is a notoriously bedbug infested zone. I don’t know what I did to deserve this injustice of being lifted from State House (Kilimabogo), but whatever the reason it has cost me a year with this little vampires. This is the time I regret not paying attention in my parasitology class in those two years back, maybe I could have learned something about eliminating them from my precincts. I can only hope that my A in Conflict Resolution will enable us to coexist in perfect harmony and understanding. So if there’s a reason am not looking forward to opening school that would be my first. Unless am able to collect the required number of signatures to force a referendum.

I must admit that when schools closed I wasn’t as thrilled with Practicum Attachment Two. As I did indicate in my piece, The Diary of a Rookie Health Worker, field attachment one was full of tribulations, low involvement and generally did more theory than in school. One could excuse my inability to master enthusiasm at the prospect of giving the first experience a reliving. To the contrary, being an intern in the Ministry of Health is for lack of better words engaging, unbelievable and a great chance to do meaningful work for my country, not for the jubilee government. I must add that just so I have no problems with Baba.

So you can understand why the  prospect of going back to school and abandoning my swinging chair in my office to sit in a cold metallic chair for one year is not any bit tantalizing. Tweeting all day and downloading movies in the high speed net as compared to walking all the way from one corner of the school to the Post Modern Library to use the restricted low speed WI-FI is doesn’t seem as bright. The feeling of importance and grandeur as the ‘IT “guy though mail merging and editing photos was the much I could do is something that I was getting used to. What I’ll miss the most is that reverence you get every morning from the female security guard as she opened my doors every morning and welcomed me with the warmest of smiles. I think it will take me longer, probably the rest of my campus life to get used to the not so friendly Brinks Security people at the Post Modern Library who don’t understand that whenever the First Lady calls it’s an emergency. The thought of the housekeepers who reverently worship the oppressive ten to ten rule and take great pleasure in  restraining my  ‘serious’ visitors do little to give one a reason to be excited about school.

Over the last four months my dietary provisions have changed and the new semester fills me with worry on how my nourishment needs will be met. See, by the end of last semester the Blessed Hotel was among my favorite joints in campus serving delicacies like Harara and Macho Punda. The former is not a donkey’s eye, just so you know. Dropping in the Hiltons, the Sarovas, the Sankaras and other five star establishments at will have made me question the position of my immediate former favorite Hotel in the cadre of ranks of the hospitality industry in Kenya.

This kind of life also means that one has to upgrade his liquor choices. This upgrade is rather involuntary as long as people with cash to burn are doing the purchasing. I still don’t know how my Kibao people will take the desertion of the drink we drank together and swore our allegiance to. The arrival of the new semester would mean that I face the Kibao Jury and who knows they may find me guilty and order me to stop all indulgence with alcohol for some time. This of course can be catastrophic on the social front.

In matters culinary, I have always prided myself as being a top chef. I’m not of course claiming that I could earn a berth in Hell’s kitchen but am sure that if KU hosted a local version of ‘So you think you can cook?’ I would make it to the top one thousand which is still a big deal considering most of the over 44,000 KU students know no other cuisine but boiling water for tea. I r had forgotten that being a brother of many sisters meant being out of the confines of the kitchen for long. Am afraid I can’t prepare meals that meet the basic WHO standards in terms of calories, sugar level and taste now. The ability to cook is of course a skill that I have to reacquire fast if I’m to feed myself and keep my sportsman’s super frame and also to be able to pick girls with loose morals from time to time.

presenting serious docs

As you are aware the most important item in my back-to-school checklist is cham. You should know that playing hockey at the top level requires not ‘a child of ugali’ but ‘the grandfather himself’. For three years now I can comfortably said that my flour needs have been ably taken care of from the abundance of my mother’s farm. This year however, the old lady won’t be able to send me to school in sacks of maize as the farms lay fallow due to poor health. The advantage of having your cham in store is that it gives you the freedom to eat to your fill whenever you desire to. Even in the most severe of financial crises one can still prepare ugali in the morning and have it alongside imported omena from the People’s Republic of Nyanza. I have formed an ad hoc committee to quickly come up with resolutions on how we need to go about this ugali business. In the mean time I have to rekindle my flickering bromance with Jaduon’g Omosh and who knows he might donate some of his sacks to a fallen comrade.

Despite the classification of the university as a word class facility due to the recent infrastructural leaps characterized by the construction of new buildings in every street, comrades will agree with me that the inside is not as rosy as portrayed by the broadcast and print media. The biggest concern in this cold weather would of course be the cold water in the showers. Let’s just say that the prospect of showering with cold water in the morning does not fill me with so much interest in school right now.

My biggest phobia though is the sheer lack of privacy that automatically comes with living with your brother in law, your friends, your girlfriend, your girlfriend’s friend, your pastor and anybody who knows you at a social, professional, romantic, religious level on the same compound. Being in the same environment as certain people creates disappoint, frustration and cumulatively unnecessary enmity especially with those who can’t resist the urge to just drop by whenever they are in the ‘neighbourhood’. Sometimes all a guy wants is to be a little mysterious.

I, like Martin Luther had a dream, a dream of a university where each student had access to free unrestricted WI-FI from the comforts of their bed, a university where all 7 am classes were abolished, a university where lecturers set humane exams and where there are reimbursable trips to exotic locations every week in a month. But the hard truth as I came to realize is that politics isn’t just a game of numbers, there are several intrigues, machinations, malignment, backstabbing, strategizing that goes on behind the scenes. I’ll soon write to you the experiences of my botched political campaign .For now all I’m saying is that I won’t be in the ballot for the upcoming KUSA elections after all.

Hasta la proxima…………till next time……..learn some Spanish bwana.

When K’Ogalo Comes Calling.....

If you follow sports news fairly well, you might have stumbled upon a piece by some sports journalist about the top ten stadiums in the world one needs to see before they die. I take great exception to the article because it had major discrepancies in the final tally. My bone of contention is that three of my favorite stadiums did not make it to that list despite an unpublished opinion poll done where respondents overwhelmingly fronted them as their favorites. EStadio de Vultures the home of the Vultures Hockey Team and City park Hockey stadium- the stadium to host the African cup of nations in September both failed to make it to the list. I would have taken that as a Kenyan (accepted and moved on ……..and waited for the revolution) but to add salt to the injury they left Tok Komwanda International Stadium! Now this is what lay men call City Stadium, the home of THE Gor Mahia Football Club.

If you have never been to a Gor game, then you are not a football fan. And when I say being to a Gor match I don’t mean stretching your legs and catching the match on Supersport 9 from the comfort of your neighbour’s house. The thrill of the game is first in the discomfort, the vast sea of humanity chanting and singing vulgarities; the sharing of laughter with a stranger whom you’ve probably never met before; the high fives and the easy familiarity forged by the resignation to the fact that your fates are  embedded together. It is the utter assurance that a fellow K’Ogalo fan will walk with you through the good and bad times, through wins and losses, through tears of joy and tears of gases, through rubber bullets…………... you do realize though live bullets are a different thing, right? A K’Ogalo fan driving a Mercedes will stop for you in the middle of the road and offer his chauffeuring services to the stadium pro bonno.

THE GOR AIRBUS

Everybody, I’ll repeat; everybody has some strong emotions that are not just very negative but also very destructive. This energy needs to be let out without the moral decorum imposed by society hovering in the air like a hangman’s noose. Being at a K’Ogalo game gives you the chance to vent, scream, kick the air, temporarily forget all your Njeri-caused problems and just focus on being happy. You become a marauding tiger, finally released into the wild from captivity, full of desire, eager to devour and crack bones. Some of you are wondering whether I work for the stadia management board and am advertising, well wonder no more. 

The main reason am writing this article is so that in any case photos or videos of me emerge singing  not Sunday school songs but those antiestablishment compositions targeting the good JubIEBCiary and the Jubilee government you should understand that I was made to sing against my will. If you also saw me alongside Jaduon’g Ragen diving into a moving  pickup on Jogoo road after the mighty K’Ogalo taught some team (I can’t really remember the name ) what football is please understand that that’s just K’Ogalo’s doing .

Owning the road

A K’Ogalo game is not just a football match, it is a social event. For an occasion to qualify as a social event there are certain distinguishing features that need be present including an appropriate date for the occasion and a dress code and in this two regards the game qualifies. Any social event worth its salt needs to bring together persons of different backgrounds who have a common interest and in this regard their unwavering loyalty to K’Ogalo fits the bill. Think of any distinguishing feature of an elite social event and I will give you the equivalent in a Gor game, a high table for a VIP stand, a toast for high five, a guest of honor for Baba.... j

Just as you are likely to run into your least favorite uncle in a family event, you are also likely to run into former schoolmates like George Odongo who wasn’t a hooligan back then when our brains allowed us to study serious subjects like Aviation in the school of men. 

When I mentioned about the date to the game, I should have probably been specific enough and added that a date necessarily needn’t be that girl you are trying to impress. There are of course several reasons why. The most obvious one would be that it is considered ‘nuks’ to bring a girl who is not a fan because it is believed to bring bad luck. Don’t ask me how the presence of Wambui would change the projections of a game but needless to say you cannot win an argument against a wounded K’Ogalo faithful. You remember the story of the turbulence that seized when Jonah was thrown to the sea, right?

On any match day, there is always the probability that the tickets are sold out and some of the genius methods of getting into the stadium might win you an award for creativity but not the coveted Nobel peace prize. Here I mean climbing over high perimeter walls, using human ladders and my new favorite creating a wave at the gate and pushing and shoving your way in. You however need to make sure you not the one kissing the metal gate or the farthest behind the this tidal wave for obvious reasons. It’s my new favorite because it prepares us physically  for the imminent revolution.

Another reason why you need not make an appearance alongside a brown Wambui is because it prevents you from watching the game. Football is a jealous mistress that craves for full attention though acknowledges some things  like a can of ‘something small’, songs or even a dances can be worth sharing it with.. Some of this ladies who wear a tones worth of makeup and do mind their nails more than they do the contents of their skull and their wigs and weaves more than they do good mannerisms would prefer watching the proceedings from the VIP lounges, sorry I meant VIP stands. A true fan will however tell you the place to watch the game is in Rassia alongside the not so modest fans.This is not just because of the feeling of belonging forged but for obvious comic relief.

In Rassia, you watch raw talent, real thespians, comedians, song writers do their thing live without prior rehearsal .That’s why one can only get disappointed when you get home to watch  Kenya's 'premier' comedy and Churchill starts narrating some wildebeest story. You even begin to wonder whether you are watching NatGeo World. Forgive my digression.

If this song goes ahead and becomes a bestseller you probably remember where you had it first…….

Mluhya yuak okuyu onyamo gweno

Mluhya yuak okuyu onyamo gweno

MaDVD yuak ouru onyamo gweno

MaDVD yuak ouru onyamo gweno……………×forever

If you don’t understand the words be grateful, some things cannot be unheard.

If your forte has been opening doors, being kind and gentlemanly, then a year’s investment might be ruined in a moment of frenzy. After the game she might just text you

Joe, I thought I knew you but the guy I saw today was ………

In this era of bestiality who knows what a lonely guy will do?Mount a crocodile or better yet,a porcupine?

As one rises up to sing the K’Ogalo nation anthem and bid Tok Komwanda International Stadium farewell, a certain sense of loss creeps in, but you carry the three points to the league summit and wait for the next victims to be named.

K’Ogalo, Gor, Gor Mahia

K’Ogalo, Gor, Gor Mahia

K’Ogalo, timbe duto yuak ne Gor

Leaving the stadium too is not just an activity has passed here. The K’Ogalo faithful leaves in stages.

There is the first group. They pass through Muthurwa reigning havoc and anarchy. They are very noisy,are large in number and pretty much get away with anything from picking(not looting) to hurling insults .They are then those once that follow closely, laughing at the crimes against Muthurwa people committed by the first lot. They are considerably less but walk bravely, rubbing in the salt knowing that should there be any confrontation the masses are not far away.

Then there is the last group of fans. This group contains people who stick by the decorum imposed by society, frown upon acts of outright vandalism but secretly wish to partake. This group also contains the passive fans who just make a fashion statement by adorning the sacred green and white. They follow the proceedings on twitter on their Kabambe phones through +8988 probably because they share a common DSTV decoder with ten other people in the block and since Njuguna’s girlfriend came they have been watching Man versus food all along. If you love your life don’t be among this group of latecomers. This is the group that gets into running battles with the men in blue and gives the Muthurwa hawkers a chance to salvage their pride by cornering twenty people and beating them silly.

Sometimes for the sins of the worst of the Romanovs, the best have to pay

The Summer Day is Done, Robert Tyler Stevens

Why food may not sometimes be man's best friend

As I might have mentioned here before, of all my friends, associates and groups that am part of, there’s none that just fills me up with so much merry, ire, shock and trouble in equal measure like the Vultures Hockey Team. They are more than a just a team, more like a family. Not your normal family of course but just one crazy, crazy family. Let’s just say that while you can introduce your girl to your bros it won’t be a very good idea to bring that girl that you are still ‘swallowing saliva’ for before she processes your request and confirms your relationship by giving you ‘something’. In this team everybody is famous for something; T Matolo for his rungu, Allan the sex god, Baro yule wa kukula ugali ya fifty na skuma ya 5 bob, Maina Mwangi aka Mwizi Kamili, Juma Juma the slayer of virgins, Shakes the rasta among several others with such dark accolades.

Being a member of this team opens one’s mind to the realm of limitless possibilities. This is the place where weird is normal and strange is familiar, where vice is honored and virtue scoffed upon, where good morals are spurned and wickedness celebrated. Apart from beating teams locally and internationally on the pitch like they normally do every match day, this team is known as the noise makers of campus. 

As you might be aware, Friday was Kenyatta University’s 34^th graduation ceremony and every time there’s a graduation trust me there’s always a Vulture or a Vulturess graduating with first class, or second class upper, or …….don’t tell me u were expecting me to go on. Apart from the exploits on the hockey pitch, we also have big brains though at times some of the methods of getting these good grades might not please the university senate. That’s why in induction, an infant vulture will always be urged to remember two important rules:

1. Never to get caught

And since getting into trouble is all they do, there’s always a chance of getting caught and that’s why rule no 2

2. Never to accept the charges, if you get caught

If there’s one thing this community knows how to do best is to party and so on Friday a team of over twenty party animals ascended to the hills of Ngong for Nana’s graduation party. Now Nana is one of KU’s oldest players having played for the ladies team for over six years. If you thinking she stayed long because of retakes you couldn’t be more wrong. You must know that completing a high profile course like computer engineering takes some time.

The expected departure time from KU to Ngong was 1700 hours but it wasn’t until 1900 hours that we left. There was this FIFA tournament that just had to be concluded to determine once for all who was the greatest at the game. The losers of course dared the winner to a game of real football claiming that there was referee bias or something. Can there be really referee bias in a preinstalled computer game? What happened to accepting and moving on? Oh, mwanaume ni kukataa.

Now as you might have noticed dealing with people who each claim the right to intelligence and intellectual prowess can be pretty difficult. Dealing with a wise vulture is even more difficult. But anybody’s worse nightmare is a drunk Vulture. We of course had to spend a lot of time at the gate arguing between going direct to town, going through Githu city and connecting to town, crossing to the other side of the flyover and waiting for a bus from Meru or Thika to town or walking to Kahawa and taking a mat to Githu city or town. I never realized that being a student on a post modern university on a superhighway presented one with so many boarding opportunities.

Each side had to present their compelling arguments like cost, comfort, space for the whole crew among others. Of course the people on the side of alcohol always win. The team decided to do Githu since it was practically impossible to get to town and grab some mzingas before the 2015 deadline for drinks purchase in Nakumatt. (If you were in the dark you informed now courtesy of the vultures) .The guys were disappointed when upon getting to Githu city’s Kassmatt they were told the supermarket doesn’t stock alcoholic beverages. Of course I knew that from the start, Mzee Varaq knows everything. So why didn’t I inform them? I think I did, it must have been absorbed in the chorus of the argument. Besides why would I insist if it would mean I get to sit next to this beautiful girl and ‘throw lines’ till Githu? After all si mwanaume ni kujaribu?

With this latest development the group had to rethink fast. Once again as is expected all the wise men had something to say. And true to my selfish nature I had to fuel this standoff. It would of course give me the much needed extra minutes to summarize my plea for babeship. As is the ritual again we took time to decide which bus was the best. Some of the things that were looked into included -number plate-KBE going backwards was considered old, the music system installed the visual appeal, the graffiti and many other sources of concern. To cut a long story short it wasn’t until about 2100 hours that we finally got town .We left for Ngong but not before grabbing some drinks for the road in some dungeons in downtown Luthuli and deliberating for some time whether to board the matatus in Kencom stage or railways. I think the Kencom people lost and I say so because we found ourselves at railways .John Peeuss formally John Omsa wa Ingotse Boys got lost in the middle of the town and we had to look for him manually as he kept saying he was in this building written Tuskys. No one would of course tell him that there are several Tuskys in Nairobi because John is not a very cordial fellow when intoxicated.

I know am almost getting to the one thousand word mark and I haven’t told you anything about the party yet. However, I just have to finish the journey and I’ll tell you why Nana Graduation Party would probably be in contention for the party of the year in a while.

Because we dint feel in the mood to mingle, we took the matatu that was last in the queue after agreeing with the driver to pay 60 bob per head. However the conductor couldn’t take our word for it and decided to add passengers in the bus despite our assurance that we would pay for the empty seats …….when we got to where we were going. The distrust must have been so much that he wanted to take our fare first hand. This act of bad faith made us alight and incite the other passengers too. We were more than willing to pay forty bob more in the second matatu. After all such coins could only create cracks and holes in my expensive Chino trousers pocket. And this time even Maina Mwangi and the other Kikuyu didn’t protest.

At times we forget that we are alone and talk, shout, chide each other, chant profanities and act in many ways that would not be accepted even by trendiest pastors ;even those who visit Koinange and repeat their MPESA numbers three time while reading the bible verses just once. Am sure the other passengers must have heaved an audible sigh of relief when we finally got to our destination and left the travelers to enjoy some moments of tranquility.

I won’t tell you of how we almost beat some police men in plain clothes silly for showing up and ordering us to reduce the decibels of noise being emitted from the ten by ten room. I won’t tell you why spin the bottle, truth or dare game is not my favorite for the time being .The probability of kissing that one girl who makes your stomach turn to the one that makes your heart heavier is about 20:1. I won’t tell you how much damage was caused especially in terms of broken beds and strained relationships with landlord and neighbors. We will however meet soon to find ways of ensuring that the good relationship with the landlord is restored. You should know we are pretty persuasive people.

There’s however one lesson that we learnt the hard way that I just had to share with you. Even for those with experience in ugali affairs, there’s a limit the human stomach can take. John Peeus will tell you that whereas it is justice to insert ugali tano and mboga ya five bob ,consuming a tray of ugali, a plate of pilau, a dish of stew ,a dozen pieces of chapati, an entire limb of a goat would be severe injustice.

mwanamme ni ugali

As the night worn off and people decided to catch some sleep ahead of the league match ,there were the familiar chorus of mwaahs, the hushed  whispers of the sex god asking someone to let him in, the  loud snores of tired men and women as they slept and another sound that I couldn’t figure out yet. But as the strong pungent smell flouted around the tiny room it became clear that the noise was the muzzled sound of farting from Omsa’s corner. And wait, he wasn’t alone, there was this lady too whose name I will withhold as there’s nothing as scary to a brave vulture like a pissed of Vulturess.

As it turned out they were in sync with the former base and the latter alto

Peeeus, Brrrrr

Peeeus, Brrrrr

The melody would have been music to the ears had it not been for the toxicity of their emissions.

I won’t write more, I have friends to win back after as soon as I press the POST button.

Peeeus, Brrrrrrrr

Peeeusssssssssssss, Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr