FRANKMWENDA

Like everyone who wasn’t born to big money, I have had my fair share of job interviews. I have attended a couple – though not as many as most people I know (you wouldn’t say I’m an experienced Interviewee). Maybe I haven’t been lucky to get that many interviews, or maybe many of the interviews I have attended have been bulls’ eyes.

I have gotten two jobs through Skype interviews. I mean, no one-on-one – we met for the first time when I reported to work – having signed my contract online. Good jobs. And I respect these employers who don’t have to meet the person to give them a job… Those employers that look into the mind, rather that the body language and all that dressing crap. No bias. In one of these interviews, I was home alone with my daughter and she was screaming the air out of the room. And I had to interrupt the interview and sit with her for the rest of it as she tagged on my headphones, distracting daddy. I got the job. 🙂

Speaking of weird Interviews, there was this interview, back in the day, while I was still in college. The thing happened in a car…or, the interviewer was in the car and I was outside. It was one of those Cosmetics Shops at Tea Room, the job had been organized by a girl friend of mine my interviewer was hitting on. I think it was a pick up like, “beautiful girl, do you know an accountant as smart as you?”

Anyway, it was a weird interview, in the middle of Dubois Road. The questions were like, what church do you go to? What is your relationship with Carol? What’s the biggest amount of money you have handled? Long and short of it, I got the offer, but I rejected the job… Guy wouldn’t let me leave work to attend class in the evening and Saturday mornings. 7:00 am – 7:30 pm, being an accountant for 15K is not something I would have done. Never mind I was a total msoto.

You want to know why quit accounting and went into Marketing and ICT? It was because of an interview. My very first real Interview. So, I received a recommendation from my accounting college Dean (Vision Institute) to be an accountant for a M-Pesa reseller. I went to the interview, sat in front of a lady and a gentleman. I felt funny just sitting there. And I realized I wouldn’t be an accountant, and there was no way I was getting this job, because I knew nothing. Never mind I had just completed CPA.

Them: Tell us 3 accounting principles.

Me: Matching principle, Accru-something, I don’t remember the third.

Them: … (Speechless)

Me: … ( Smiling sheepishly)

Them: Explain the matching principle, then.

Me: For every revenue you report, match it to the expense. (I knew this one).

Them: (somewhat reassured.) Which IFRS covers joint ventures and how would you treat a joint venture according to that IFRS.

Me: Pass.

Them: (visibly shocked at my stupidity). What? People don’t pass questions in an interview.

Me: I know, I’m sorry. Maybe I wasn’t so ready.

Them: (Laughter)

Me: (Laughter)

The interview became a laughing match. We laughed for a whole 10 minutes, taking tea and talking about computers. I even offered myself up for an IT role. Of course I didn’t get that job. 🙂

Then there was that corporate Interview, or do we say series of interviews? I went to a couple of them, waiting weeks for the next. When I finally met the decision maker – the Marketing Manager, he told me to lead the interview. Things like,

“Where do we start? What do you want us to discuss?”

Trick question, that left the inexperienced me bluffing. But it involved another trick, logical question (those psychometric tests) that I approached mathematically, and failed of course. He told me, “you are a very smart young man, but you aren’t a genius.”

But I still got the job, because, after all it was, a social media job, not a psychometric one. 🙂

The interview that gets the crown of absurdity, though, is the GNLD interview I attended in a full suit. Long story for another day.

I am demanding a Honorary Degree in dating. I have had so many dates, dating back many many years, that I want my place among the table of men. Real men.

Follow closely.

When I was in high school I was the thing. A Gambino Casanova himself(don’t ask me who that is, my mind’s fancy creation).

I couldn’t keep myself off girls. And that started in Form 2, when I discovered the power of a cute girl in my “cool kids” graduation. Remember Makena? Girl was hot… She was easily the cutest girl in any gathering. And I was the most shy guy any gathering, too. And she was a star. Expert badminton player, hitting Nationals every time. She was wanted. Also by a Form 4 bully who told me to dump her or I get a beating after she rebuffed him and came to me. She used to force me to look into her eyes and every time, I would look far far away. Whenever she won a match, her friends would taunt me to hug her…and I would not.

I was like Deno, who, in Form 4, we tried to introduce to a girl and he fled,literally, all the way to the dormitories.

We never really materialized, but this sharpened me into a loverboy of sorts.

By Form 3, I was a pro.

I was in authority in just the Clubs that mattered which meant I was eternally in the school bus attending funkies, from athletics to ball games to Talent Shows to school trips for clubs that I wasn’t a member of. And it served in honing my skills in the dating game. I was an addict. I loved girls. Not in the loving sense-I didn’t know what love was, actually, but the manly feeling of wooing a woman, err, girl into my box, made school tolerable.

There was a learning curve. From the first time I approached a chick and my first line was:
“Sasa. Unajua…….”
“Sijui!” She shouted back at me.

I will never forget this. But it initiated me.

I started learning how to approach girls and get them under my sleeve in the shortest time. The more I got, the better it felt. I couldn’t help myself.

And the goal? The goal was to receive the most letters in the school. And receive them I did! I enjoyed people coming to the evening prep and handing me letters to the envy of my classmates. I felt like a a star when they cheered as I got letters, every time. I would get up to five at any given time.

Sometimes I used to write back. Being  the Englishman, this was easy. All that was needed were flowery writing pads and someone to calligraph the envelope; and I would fulfil a girl’s best fantasies(and boy didn’t students fantasize in class, especially during preps?)

I became a faithful man of the house in Term 2, form 4, when I met Beth(not her real name).

It was a basketball tournament in our school and legend was that she was the toughest chics in the field. Many had tried, all had failed. She was hot, and she said she had no time for boys. There was a standing bet for whoever would get her. I was up for it! I don’t remember the magic words I used, but a few minutes later, Beth had spread her leso in the ground at the farthest corner of the field and we were lying on it eating her ice cream!

Beth and I were in a relationship by the end of that day. And we were for the next two years!

I was a hero. And I wanted to maintain that. I was faithful. And I was waiting for marriage, diligently. So diligently that Beth dumped me for “not caring to know what is between my legs.” I was dumped for not attempting to consummate our relationship! Njuri Ncheke will call me a failed man, again. But sex is not everything, right, kids? I accepted to be dumped. I was going to wait till marriage.

And then I discovered internet and online dating! This was a major break! I would hypnotize my beaus for no reason. Or, at least to satisfy my weird fantasies. Remember Prodigits? Mocospace? Tubidy? That was before 2Go broke the internet. Sema sexts.

And I met many many girls. And a few older women. If I had a shilling for every blind date I have had off the internet, I would be rich. Very rich.

Some of the meet ups turned into friendships that I have kept to date. Some generated short, relatively inexplicit flings. Some were one-time meets that turned out to be boring. And some were downright disastrous.

Take for instance, Doris. We exchanged numbers and met after some time. She was in town and was looking for ‘a plot’. So, I raided my father’s hard earned pocket money, and went to meet her. Not too bad. Not too good. I don’t judge on appearances and this has always earned me ridicule among my crew. So, we club hopped around town. All was good till she retrieved sanitary pads from her bra and started waving them in a club. I was so embarrassed my grand plans for the night came to a grinding stop. I pulled her out of the club and we spent the rest of the night in an ATM. I have never seen her since. I hear she has been blessed with three children between then and now. Could have been me. 🙂

What about Shaniqwa (I don’t remember her real name). A humongous girl straight out of high school with those succulent githeri or pizza cheeks and waist tyres to boot. The first meet was just an idle walk through town. The second one was more focused. We met in town, and went back to my place, Plot 10. Reason, there was no money to go to a restaurant. I didn’t have any intention of bouncing off this(sorry). So, I borrowed some money and got her a madiaba soda, and queens cake. I, on the other hand, bought a small packet of milk and two ngumus and blamed it on my resolution to watch my weight. Man, I was shady. She had the audacity to drink only a quarter of the soda and a few touches of the cake! And then, she simply announced “It’s time to go!”

*Spits* I begrudgingly followed her to a Paul’s Cookiemans and ordered some cake I had never heard about before. It was nicely wrapped and then she dropped the bombshell:
“Si ulipe?”
I was too pissed off. You should have seen my Meru sparks.
“Sijabeba wallet” trying to be cordial.
” What kind of man are you? You should carry man when you are walking with a girl.”

I let out a big pout and left her there…. holding the cake, went back to the house, ate her leftovers, and forgot about her. I simply wiped her from my memory.

Now that I have remembered her, I am too angry right now… I will complete this story at a later date.

My friend is on TV! I am from a village, so, my type of friends and I find it very hard to appear on TV- unless it’s a wedding video.

Just kidding, I know Bigwigs, too!

When I met Kay-eye, it was our first day at my place of work, you know, we were all fresh faced, and in full suits and ties( that is, before the suits were discarded) and we clicked on first site. I’d have said love, but that’s gay. Hehe

Kay Eye is a musician. I raised eyebrows and dropped them. We are all musicians, right? We sing in the bathroom, and whenever we go upcountry, we attend local church/ youth concerts-and show them what we got from the city. So, my eye brows remained down, till he gave me his Soundcloud and YouTube URLs.

Man! I was in personal terms with a mighty celeb!

Kay Eye is a wise guy, just spend thirty minutes with him, it will come down at you. So, I called him Egghead(search that up) and opened a Blog for him, called EGGHEAD, and told him to write his ideas there. Then I knew this guy would be great!

You should visit the blog and read his poems, and philosophy.

Back to music, all his salary went to the studio, he would be broke by Date 5. He grew dissatisfied with the work, as it didn’t accommodate his vast dreams. And he resigned!

To make music, and freelance work. The guy is a mathematician. An experienced statician/ analyst to boot.
So, I kept waiting for the video (I had already listened to the raw audio).

First, he sent me a link to the video shoot, on Mombasa road. A very rugged guy almost beat him up, for stepping on him as he rapped away. Those are the problems smallwigs face! Watch it here. I pitied the guy.

Then the final video landed! The guy has moves, lines, and this creative sense I have not seen in Kenya! He is a mkamba, so, gangnam style yellow all over, he is jumping like a maasai, though.

What’s more: Its Gospel!

Watch the video, and drop a line of encouragement, or whatever, for my guy.

victor brian: SH.10000 AN HOUR? HERE’S HOW: Eenie minie miny mo Do you want to make some dough Listen close I tell you how With life dec…