Musee! Reke Gwere! Mwanaume ni effort! Growing up is a scam. Meanwhile, in heaven, they must be on some good weed laughing their faces off when they see what us earthlings have to endure. As a baby, if I got a sniff that I’d be coming to earth hot and heavy on my soon-to-be mum, I’d throw a tantrum. And not those crying ones where you’re outcast to the corner until your moods take a chill pill. No! It would …
Category: Nairobi Life
There’s a different vibe in the air on Friday that seems blessed by the gods. As I stroll through the cabro road that leads to my crib, everything seems cleaner, everyone’s smiling. I must have won the lottery and didn’t receive the memo. It’s rare that all these people are simultaneously friendly towards me. Even the guard greeted me with honors of mheshimiwa whilst gracefully opening the gate. Moreover, I could sense he was about to pull up the red …
My parents always have an input in everything I do. It comes with the job. Ever since I was young they had a say in the food I ate (mashed pumpkins mixed with terere leaves – yuck). They picked the clothes I wore which happened to be similar to my brother’s. I think as dad was courting mum he might have whispered lovey-dovey things like how sweet their kids would be if they all wore the same outfits; colors to …
He’s not on social media. No Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Whatsapp. Who the hell doesn’t have WhatsApp? If there was a comet about to hit Nairobi, it would probably find him knee-deep in whatever mysteries he does in that house of his. He’s probably a spy or into dark things like cults with red capes that make sacrifices on every full moon. Musee, I hope the rare times we meet, I’m not a prospectus sacrificial lamb. Doubt that can’t happen since …
They slay their fury tails left then right nipping at grass (if any) and the scarce leaves on young trees they come across. This is foreign, a land they aren’t used to. Busy cars with busier people, life in the suburbs. Driving through Thika road, it’s not hard to spot them. Assuming these sides, sheep are hard to come by. By sheep, I mean the actual four-footed animals, then again classifying drunkards crawling back home in wee hours in the …
I’ve been scrapping off some tea stain on this damn coffee table before an unwelcomed visitor passes by and unwittingly judges. I think the stain has a grudge, it refuses to nudge. It reminds me of high school days where I used to peel stamps for reuse. Remember? The vicious fights with stamps back when girls loved getting letters. They still do, at least my editor says she does, then again, a girl from Riara never had the time of …