Hello - The Nonsense Cover



Hello
Niaje
How have you been?
You liked 11 photos on my Instagram yesterday,
Did you stop because my 12th pic is a #WCW?
That made me think unanistalk,
Are you?

Hello, can you hear me?
Ni California (my childhood nickname),
Namiss vile ulikuwa unaniita Calif,
When we were young and free,
I am now older, just call me Frank. Nikuite Mama nani?

There is such a difference between us
I hear you have three kids..

Hello from Mauaaa!
Nimekaa nikikupigiaaa
To tell you, to send back, that teddy bear nilikupatiaaa
But when I call uko mteja,
Did you block my number,ama ulichange,
At least I can tell my current girlfriend I've tried,
To get that teddy bear back,
But it don't matter. I clearly shouldn't have told her about it..

[Two days later]

Hello,how are you?
Did you get my voicemail? I'm sorry
Nilikuona online Whatsapp,
Haki umeblock number yangu?

And it's no secret that I am looking for a wife,
I am running out of time.

So hello from Mauaaaa (Maua)
Niko base nachew miraaaa! (Miraa)
Najua, utaniita mbuzi, lakini sijali (sijali)
But seriously nitakutumia Njuri Ncheke,
Pick up the phone nikwambie,
Nitakununulia teddy bear nyingine unipatie hiyo,
Nilipewa na grandma,
It matters. Clearly I was in love with you when I gave it to you.

(High, highs, highry, handas)
(Nimekosa low za kuweka hapa)
Anymore

Hello from Mauaaa
I must have done this better than Jimmy Gaiiiit
Lakini, najua, ya Dela iko juu,
But when I did this nothing was on my miiiind,
Hello,I know I know this post doesn't make sense,
At least I can say that I've tried (I've tried)
To say things that never came from my heart
But it don't matter. I have done this post and I won't delete it.

Seriously, though. Even that 'album cover' up there is nonsense.
:)

Have You Seen This Idiot?


I hate Whatsapp! Let me rephrase that. I dislike some aspects of Whatsapp. Like the endless viral messages you receive from 69 people and in 13 groups. You may get the same freaking picture 7 times in the SAME group! I would uninstall it any time were it not for my stinginess with airtime. Why chat on Bob's expensive airtime when you can do it for free(almost?).

By the way, it is official! You will NOT be paying for annual subscription for Whatsapp! I would not have paid. Kwani ni stima?

Back to where I was. Sometimes I don't view the images and videos sent over Whatsapp and later, muuch later, I chance upon weird things in my phone that I don not remember downloading. Some are funny and silly (few things are funny and I looove silly things, because I am silly?).

So, today, I saw this video in my gallery three times. THREE times! I could not trace it to anyone . Okay, I keep deleting Whatsapp chats due to reasons known to myself.  I have been told it is doing rounds on the App. It was featuring my guy- Kay Eye! Remember the guy I told you quit his job while we were at Bata to pursue his singing talent? I have not met him since but I have seen him doing stuff that I want to do when I grow up.... Be on TV, nini nini. Oh, he has won the Riverwood Awards, too!

That is singing and dancing and acting. But in this video, he is an idiot! A complete idiot!


Now you agree with me. Kay Eye, if you are reading this...you cracked me up! Go on, become the biggest comedian from Ukambani since rain. (see what I did there?)


Goodbye 2015, that was a Rollercoaster!


How years move! Just the other day, we were in 2014....kufumba na kufumbua, I have a 2016 diary. Is it only me or are years running faster every passing year? Or, is it a growing-old thing? A year was a very long time in primary school.  Have I been too busy?

Too much has happened between January and December. Some have been the best things ever to happen in my life, and some have been the worst things ever. The bittersweet rhetoric has never been clearer.

When I went back to work in January, I was going to do my third year in one workplace-Bata Shoe Company. Talk about loyalty in a move-around age. I had just been granted a house in the company estate and life was going to be easier. Heck! I had a kitchen garden, and I could do the farming I had always wanted to do.

2015 was going to be another normal work year. Only simpler since I wasn't going to be paying rent and groceries. I also had a Sports Club on my disposal. I was going to relax, work and be normal.
I was wrong.

I started travelling, finally!
"This is a multinational and you will be traveling all over the world. Just have your passport ready"
One of the baits the HR manager had given me to join the company two years earlier was

And I had waited. And waited. And given up. To make matters worse, my department was doing so well, people from other countries would be sent over to be trained by me! You don't know how terrible that sounds when you know it should be you travelling to get trained in another country. Or to train them in their country.

So, mid-February, I was surprised with the 'prepare your passport' line. I was going to India! The son of Maua was going to 'panda ndeke' and bring to truth an old prophecy by my grandmother "You keep studying as hard as you are doing, and you will fly with the birds"!

So, we had a big hassle with my erstwhile partner in crime, Julia, looking for elusive documents that threatened our trip, hoping against hope that this once in a lifetime opportunity wasn't going to pass us by due to some shit bureaucracy. And we got them.

And we went to India! I had started travelling, finally! Forget the Jambojet ads-that was a crazy first time flight that I'll tell you about sometime. (Remind me. How many stories do I owe you, by the way?)

I lost a brother.
This was one of the lowest lows in my life. I still don't believe Eric Mfa is gone. I keep feeling like he is here and will show up or call. And then a voice tells me he is not around any more. I have been home for Christmas and I keep half expecting him to come by to ask for movies, or a belt because his is loose, or to give me a plot of some sort.

Sad puppy

But he ain't here.

This was the major blot to an otherwise great year. It was the worst it could get. Do they celebrate Christmas up there, bruh?

As if that wasn't bad enough, several other people I know, from my hometown, followed him to wherever he went. (The accident claimed four lives, and was followed by a series of deaths that got all of us scared)

My prayer is that this never happens again, in 2016 or ever! Please say Amen.

I left Limuru, and Bata!
Yes, that's right! As I said, life started perfectly, you could say rosy- travelling, more responsibilities, more achievements...and my thriving garden (forget any pictures of spoilt cabbages you may have seen doing rounds in social media. Those are my political enemies).

Organizational direction for eCommerce(what I do, by the way) changed that left me bored and unenthusiastic. And I sent out a few job applications, while building my small Future Concepts start up behind the scenes. I was either going to get another job, or I was going to do my business full time. One of my mentors once told me, "if you are unhappy with a place, move! You are not a tree" There! I shouldn't have told you all that but I just did.

Things moved a bit fast in the last week of November and I was out in the first week of December! I moved! I moved out of my beloved Limuru. I left the relationships and friendships I had created in Bata(sorry, Evelyne) and the small, lovely town of Limuru. I left the cold, I left the scenic tea plantations, I left the green, swaying trees, I left the orgasmic smell of shoes and leather, I left my small garden, and I left the house I had fallen in love with.

And I took the bold step. I joined a revolution that will sweep Kenya to greater heights in the next few months. That feels good, trust me.

This Blog
I have been writing this blog for some time. But 2015 became a revelation. We had more stories, we had more hits,  we got initiated, we looked for a wife together and we engaged more.

I got many many new readers in 2015 as I wrote this blog more and more. I got true readers who stop me in the streets to say hi. That always makes shy Me blush. I will not get used to your love.

God willing, we will make this better this year. I will tell you more and more stories from my crazy life(by now you know that :) ). If you would like to write in this blog, just email me, Facebook me, or whatever, and let's do it!

May we grow more and more, together, in 2016. It will be a great year. I can feel it. The only way is up. And God will be here with us.

May we PROSPER

Amen. 

THAT Year After High School

Idle unemployed youth Kenya

KCSE is over! I had forgotten about KCSE, it's existence, and importance till this year. My brother, who has had a very difficult high school life and a live-in cousin have both completed KCSE. Welcome to semi-life, Evans and Alex. Now, please stop, and tell your parents to stop, calling me asking if you can come to stay with me for some time. I'm a bachelor about town and I like staying alone. More importantly, I want you to stay at home and 'enjoy' life as I enjoyed it back then-raw!

It was quite a year, well, not really a year because life became hard and I shipped myself to college too soon. It was a year I had been looking forward to for four years- when I would be finally free from the high school bell(I hated that thing), githeri and Maths. I would also turn 18 at some point in that year, and hence the license to do adult things.

Right after high school, an older cousin of mine talked my mother into making me go to her place to help her run her shop. It was fun for me because then, our part of world didn't have electricity and I was a sucker for music, movies and coloured TV. I would spend the day alone in the shop in a very bad location, reading novels, listening to music, playing Snake on my Nokia 1100..... and entertaining girls from the neighbourhood, also Form 4 leavers. Winnie, are you reading this? :)

It got boring. I had fast, warm blood and I didn't want to stay in a remote town doing nothing. I wanted to go back home where I knew more people, and where I would stay without working.
So, I 'resigned' and went to Computer School. Those computer basics classes people go to study Microsoft Office and MSDOS. Here, I reconnected with friends, made new friends(Are you there - Jon, Maureen, Aggy, Matthew, Deno?). It was a fine, two hour class, after which people would take each other for lunch, go to one of the rich kids' house to play computer games and deejay; laze around, or go home. Life was good. Until KCSE results came out in February! People separated themselves-those who passed, those who failed and watu wa katikati. It was a childish game of esteem. Don't ask me where I was.

In the process, I got a job! You see, I was, and I think still am, a fairly respected member of the society and I was offered a job to teach every afternoon, after computer class, at the local secondary school! They didn't have many teachers and had to share classes among three or four teachers, but then, there were only two classes, Form 1 and 2. No one could teach Geography. I asked them to give me subjects I loved, like English and Swahili but the elder who approached me told me they believed I was capable of teaching any subject. So Geography it was-never mind I didn't take Geography in high school. I simply summarized the text book and dictated notes. For a whole two weeks! And then I resigned. Teaching wasn't fun. Ladies and gentlemen, this was how long my career as a teacher lasted-two weeks!

Since there was nothing I was doing in the evenings, I started going out like a proper circumcised Meru man. I would go to "canteen" ( take it to mean town or shopping centre) and hang out with other guys. I have always been sensitive about who I hang out with, so, I never misbehaved too much. I never chewed miraa, which everyone else was, so, I would always get tea and ngumu and make intelligent analysis of the village politics, play pool and watch soap operas. I did not miss a single episode of Love is Timeless on KBC!

I had just discovered Hip Hop and in true gangsta livin'(knowwhatamsayin?), we would spend days in Maua town, listening to hip hop in barber shops, photocopy bureaus, and cyber cafes. The crew- Marti(he used to run his father's battery charging joint), Royson, Kawaida, Kiumbe, Anto(the only employed person in the group-those chopees work for Equity after school), Mwalim Tembe(he had accepted the teaching vocation) and Alex (he used to run a photocopy)- had formed a clique, clad in flashy tshirts, baggy jeans and standin' caps). Sometimes, armed with Marti's car batteries, Anto's woofer, Alex' computer and my music CDs, we would go to parks, blast music (I should have become a DJ, Virtual DJ) and fool around with the hottest girls in town.We were living the gangsta life, man.
Don't they look G? Royson, Marti, Kawaida and Chief Kiumbe
But then we started disintegrating, or growing up. Some of us were shipped off by their sore parents. At some point, an NGO appeared, giving courses on community mobilisation and HIV to idle school leavers. We formed an objective group of five. We called it Touch and we had lots of dreams for the community. We would perform play-skits in churches, youth camps and an event we developed-The Touch Extravaganza. It was fun. We were talented. We would not write the scripts. Since I was tasked with coming up with ideas, I would write one paragraph synopsis, and the team would know what to do or say. I have paused here to stare at the ceiling in nostalgic memory. That was a good team. Me, Alex, Doris, Bessy and Mfa (Bless his soul). I think this is how the high school leavers should spend their one year. Getting creative for the society.

I also had a girlfriend(say Amen). She was still in high school and I would make her late for school every time on opening days. When she was around, we would spend as much time as we could. She had two other friends and with my clique of Alex and Royson; and a few introductions and match-making, we became a group of 6 young lovers-3 couples trying to outdo each other in love antics. We did crazy things. Not bad things-my girlfriend dumped me because I was not ready for sex no matter how hard she tried. Story for another day.

Buoyed by the new free labour, my father finally bought a cow. For too long, we had been the only home in the neighbourhood without a cow. And the cow he bought was a guzzler. A Fresian cow. Those things can eat- they are supposed to eat 90 kilos of food and 50 litres of water every day. Living in a suburban place, there was no way we could get this much food. She was placed under my care and life became hell. I cut all the banana migomba at home to feed her, I ran a fence to the ground, I drained the water tank, and the cow would moo throughout with that loud mouth of hers. I decided that was tabia mbaya and resorted to corrective action. Every time she mooed, I would whip her, or hit her with a stone. Soon, she associated mooing with pain and stopped. What was the name for this from Biology?
The Fresian cow is a beast. Pic: LIC

But she was a snitch. Any time she heard dad come through the gate, she would throw tantrums like a kid. She knew this would always earn me "why is the cow hungry" questions. Another thing, she hated women. No woman would go close to her. And I was the only guy spending time at home. Why do females hate each other so much?

Silly cow made me cut my free year short and go to college.


Main Pic: Unemployed youth www.amshaafrica.org 

A Kenyan Man Goes to Buy Condoms

Buying condoms funny Wikihow
So the girl you have been eyeing for ages has finally accepted a sleepover and you have a feeling that this will be a good night. You had praised your kitchen skills on Whatsapp and she wants to taste your food. You will cook for her. So, you go to the market, or supermarket depending on where you are, and buy cooking stuff you don't use in your bachelor pad, like carrots and cucumbers, garbage. You get ginger, dhania and pilipili hoho, too. If you are like me, the only malighafi(read spices) you normally use are salt, a small onion and tomatoes. Today you are stocked. It will be a hot dinner. You aim to impress the empress.

Your bachelor pad has only one bed, and you have a feeling that the kitchen won't be the only hot room in the house tonight. You see, on Whatsapp, in your late night chats, you have started raunchy Truth or Dare games with raunchy details. You have this gut feeling that you have been blessed. Not for procreation purposes - she is not here for marriage. And you don't want to return home 'on a vehicle carrier in a box' as your grandmother once said.

You will need condoms..... you know, just in case.

So after your shopping, you set out to look for the sheaths. That's where trouble starts. You don't buy these things like you buy potatoes. You have to sweat for it. As they say, good things rarely come easy.

So, you walk down the street, peeping into shops to see, one, if the good old packet is hung on the shelves and two, if the shopkeeper is an approachable agemate. If you live in a small town, the shopkeepers are mostly women the age of your mother wearing glasses and kilemba. Such shopkeepers don't stock condoms. It's a sin. Your best bet is a chemist. So, you keep walking, looking for chemists.
Assorted Lifestyle Condoms: Amazon
Assorted Lifestyle Condoms: Amazon

Chemist 1 has a queue. There is no way you will queue, and in the full glare of the public, ask for the forbidden sachets. Pass.

Chemist 2 has more than one attendant. You can't imagine walking in and whispering to the guy that you want Durex and he shouts to the lady. "Do we have Durex in stock?" To which she shouts back, "No! Tell him we have Trust Studded and Salama!". And after you leave they will discuss you, anyway. Pass, again.

Chemist 3 has one, approachable guy. But there is an older guy there, eating stories with him. He has even been given a chair, and from the looks of it, he is not too sick to stand. He plans to stay for long. You kick an avocado seed in the street in frustration. Why do people go to talk with the pharmacy guy? These people are cursed.

Chemist 4. Voila! There is only one guy inside. You pull your hood to your eyes and walk in. You find him talking on the phone and he cheerfully lifts his index finger, to please wait ooone moment. You place your shopping paper bags on the floor and shuffle your feet impatiently. Then, just then, a cute girl from the neighbourhood walks in. There is no way you are buying condoms in her presence. You never know, she may be a potential. You ask for mosquito coil, and ABZ, for de-worming. "This elnino has come with too many mosquitoes". You explain.

You start walking back the way you came. Popping your eyes into the chemists. There has been no improvement. You start trying to remember if you have any left over CDs from previous sexcapedes. You have one piece of Trust, two pieces of Femiplan, one piece of those brown government condoms, and an empty packet of some Durex under the bed. From what she had said on Whatsapp, she doesn't do the deed in the dark. Chucking brands upon brands of condoms will be suicidal.

You decide....kiumane. You walk into Chemist 2- it also has M-Pesa:
"Naweza toa?"
"How much?"
"3-fefte"
"Sawa"

As the guy is perusing his M-Pesa book, you ask discretely. "Uko na CD gani?" He unashamedly turns and takes you through the entire wall of condoms like those Bata attendants showing you different shoes in a rack. You cut him short. "Give me 5 packets of Femiplan"

Femiplan has 6 pieces per packet and with 30 condoms and limited supply of partners, you know they will last a long time. You don't want to go through this gruelling experience again. 

You walk home, feeling like you are Roman and you have just conquered the entire world.

Your guest arrives to a hot, saucy meal. It is that time of the month for her. You will not be using the condoms tonight, or any time soon. You wail in agony.

And die.

****************



Who Said Skinny is Beautiful?

Be proud of your body. Big or ssmall.

A girl friend of mine inboxes me on Facebook, "Frank, imagine someone called me fat today".
I ask her, "Who? Njoki Chege?"

She hasn't replied to me. I think she feels terrible someone called her fat. She actually isn't big, she has a nice body, but could might have added on just a little weight. She is a modern girl. It is a taboo for modern women to add weight.

But. What happened to the world? When did growing thin and skinny become sexy? When I was growing up in the village, that's before I came across neo-colonized lifestyle magazines, being big was a sign of prestige. A big woman meant a wealthy husband who could afford food- unless she had elephantiasis, of course. My grandfather would ululate whenever I got visited by a big, healthy girl. And he would commented on such, even in her presence, "Mwenda, umetoa wapi hii 'ngutu' nzuri hivi?" (Where did you get such a beautiful young lady?).

On the other hand, being thin showed either of two things. You were either poor and couldn't afford food, or you were sick. Very sick. Especially with the 'neck disease' of tabia mbaya.

There was even a song to it. Pole Musa. .... Kweli Muusa, uliponioa nilikuuwa na afya nzuri, nilinoona, kama ngoima ya....(never got this part).... Loosely translated to 'Moses, when I married you, I was healthy. I was as fat as a ngoima(whatever it is)..... And now with our unhappy marriage, I am thin.

Then this somehow changed.  I don't know when, I don't know how. My theory is some thin model with anorexia(sorry) decided to turn her body to her advantage, and marketed her condition as an advantage. Wicked opportunist. And then it became a trend...You know women with trends, trickled to Africa, and baam! Our women don't want to embrace the African beauty any more.

The barbs thrown at big women by other women is disheartening. Have you ever wondered why it is only women who jeer at other women because of their size? Because, we, men, love plus size. It makes us proud. It shows the world there is no drought in our homes, that we are feeding you well, that our homes are happy.
Bodies should be praised for the amazing feats they accomplish every second of the day, not for how they look in a bikini.



"Bodies should be praised for the amazing feats they accomplish every second of the day, not for how they look in a bikini. So rather than shaming thinness to empower “real” women, can’t we all just get along?"

To the naturally big ladies, be yourself! Don't let anyone make you feel bad because of your size! Don't lose your sleep because some thin person thought thought they are the SI unit of beauty and you are all things ugly. Look at yourself in the mirror. Smile. That is beautiful. Your smile is beautiful. Don't cry your face into gloom. Treat other humans well. That is real beauty. Inner beauty, and that is all that matters. Body size is just that. Size.

The fellow women writing all these things to put you down have esteem issues. True story. And when you see such a post in social media, comment with your photo. That's the best revenge. Show them you are everything they are not.

Don't force yourself to be them. YOU are beautiful, let them also try to be YOU for a change.
When you force yourself to be thin and it's not your body, it makes you look bad! You grow bags under your eyes, your neck looks funny, your breasts become oversize and overweight because they don't slim with you, and soon, you bend over permanently. Can't you see that? Don't force yourself. You were created wonderfully and amazingly beautiful, don't struggle to fit into someone else's body. Don't fight to become someone else! The master had a plan for you.

I didn't say the slim women are sick. Okay, just a few. What I mean is, be yourself. You have your body for a reason, and whether you are plus size or minus size, it is your body. Keep it fit. Maintain it. Don't distort it in any way. Dress it well, flaunt all you can. You are beautiful. They are not. Appreciate yourself, and others. Don't tell others off because you don't have their type of body. Shut up- unless you created them.

I am also not saying you get obese! God forbid. Just make sure you keep your BMI on point. Be healthy.

Norah: My Flame!


We all have those contacts in the phone that are just that-contacts! Numbers and emails we have no idea where they came from. Or, is it only me? I have accumulated so many over the years, considering I have never lost my contacts since I got my line in Form 2. Some have just come, somehow. Mostly in the era of 2Go. (Let's not go there) :)

So, the other day, I discovered a name that has been lying in my phone book, long dormant and sleepy. Norah. This is Whatsapp, you can text for free, so I say "hi". We start small talk-she has so many similarities, I think she is either a long lost sibling, or she is my soulmate. Same college courses, same tastes, same lifestyles, same county (it matters). The chemistry is tight. From her Whatsapp profile picture, she is cute. I think she is heaven sent. 

She reads my blog! And she wishes she can write, too. 

"Why not? Go on, write"
"But where"
"I can help you set up a blog"
"I will just write for you" 

She was in love with the  "Looking for a Wife" and "I will be the perfect Husband" posts. So, she wanted to be my wife! Teren teren. Her response was in a record few minutes! Read on:

I am waiting for my flame. I am not looking for him, it is his job to look for me. And if he is my perfect match, he will recognize himself in me. When he finds me, he will feel it, he will be drawn to me, in a way he can not explain. It will be mystical, perfect and we will fulfill the purpose of our union. Together.

As I wait, it is my duty to mold myself to perfection. To reach my highest self. I want to be perfect for him too. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Mentally. It is simple, we attract what we are. That's the law of attraction.

I want to give my best to my flame. For him, it will be worth the search. For me, it will be worth the wait.

I want my beauty to run more than skin deep. I want my heart to be beautiful. I want it to love my flame, truly, madly, deeply. But before loving my flame so purely, I have to love myself first. To accept who i am and respect my inner self enough to be true to myself. Only then will i learn to love my flame in equal measure. I will cherish him, love his quirks, admire his strengths, i will love him so. As much as i love myself.

To love is to serve. I want to serve my flame. I want to cook for him. There is something intimate about cooking for your man. And serving him. Better yet, we can cook together. And enjoy every moment. I want to do his laundry. Clean our house. Make a beautiful home. I want our home to be our paradise.

Playful sex.
Relax, I got you. Source: http://blackartrocks.tumblr.com/

I love to play. And i want my flame to be my partner in crime. I want us to share hobbies. Laugh silly. Play games together. Have i mentioned sex? Hmm. Playful sex too. I want us to tease. A lot. Try new things. Be wild. Fulfill our fantasies. I want to be totally open with him, because he loves every part of me. Without judging.

Not everyday will be a good one, without sadness, there would be no happiness. I want my flame to be my shoulder to cry on. I want our relationship to be our safe haven. Be our source of comfort.

My partner will trust me enough to let me be his helper. Make me his partner. I would love it if we made decisions together. Run our finances together. Invest together. I want us to be a team. A strong one at that.

Finally, my flame will understand that if God does not build a home, those who build it do so in vain. He will let God be the centre of our relationship. We will pray together, for ourselves, and our family. He will understand that a family that prays together, stays together.

So here i am, waiting for my flame. When i see him, i will recognize him. My handsome prince charming. I will admire his masculinity. He will cherish my femininity. He will love me, like Christ loves the church. And I will respect him so much, I will submit to his authority. I will let him lead me. And i will follow him, gladly. When he finds him, I will definitely marry him.

With all my love.


Isn't she just perfect? She is waiting for her flame. Will you be her flame, or should I just be? I am sliding into the friend zone quite fast-even before I meet her. 

Yesterday was her birthday. Happy Birthday, Norah!

Catch up with her on: Facebook