archer's photo blog

Honest Scrap award!

2009-04-29T14:03:00.004+03:00

It appears that I have been awarded the prestigious Honest Scrap award by the one and only Lady Farmgal.

The little trophy says “This award is bestowed upon a fellow blogger whose blog’s content or design is, in the giver’s opinion, brilliant.” I would like to thank FG for this honour because really, I don’t see anyone more fitting to receive it than myself. I would also like to thank the Almighty for giving me fingers to type, my parents for…….

Rules

You must brag about the award (I just did that up there, no?)
You must include the name of the blogger who bestowed the award on you and link back to the blogger
You must choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.
Show their names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog.
List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then pass it on with the instructions!

So here are ten truths about me (as if y’all need more)

1. I once narrowly avoided arrest at Johannesburg International Airport (now O.R. Tambo International) in 2005 for being in possession of an AK-47 bullet. I shit you not. It was a replica of a bullet, made into a pendant. I managed to get through one airport earlier that morning with the receipt from the shop where I bought it and they let me through bila maswali mengi. So I begged and pleaded and after calling the store to confirm that I did purchase the bullet there, they confiscated it and let me go.

2. I have a very low opinion of modern day feminists. They disgust me. But that doesn’t make me a chauvinist.

3. I have a habit of nicknaming things. I call my laptop Cathy (coz it’s a Compaq, and it has serious PMS-like mood swings) Pinky coz it’s…well…pink. My two cars were Helen and Helen Bandia. I also have a knack for nicknaming my friends. My phone book contains names such as JVC (Jaluo Very Charming), Bullshit, I Shit You Not, Baengele, M.O.M.C (Mother of my children), Bushman, Powertab, Mascot, Kilunda, Gadaffi, Semantics, Mr Bad, Papa Shirandula, Mr Dad, Ms Ethiopia, KAR 041U, Ms No Panties, Muskaki, Eyewitness, Boxman, Rockstar, Runda’s Finest, Superwoman, Ka Smiley, Frishy-Frish etc.

4. If my little flat was to catch fire and I could only save two things, I’d grab Pinky and Cathy.

5. As mentioned in this post, I decided to mend relations with people who were close to me at some point and shit came between us. So far, so good. But it involves a lot of ass kissing and however much I think I’m beyond that, sometimes it needs to be done. There are some asses I’ve saved for last coz I’m 100% sure the ass owners will enjoy every second of it, and might specify that it be done with red lipstick!

6. I still think Grace M. is pure eye candy. Bite me.

7. When I listen to music (well…some) I picture the instrumentals in form of a painting. I do that for several songs, I simply close my eyes and paint something. It's beautiful, really. Does anyone know any application that removes lyrics from music thus leaving only the instrumentals? Me thinks that's the best way to listen to sh*t hop...sans lyrics!!

8. I think I’m a fairly good judge of character and I generally make friends quite easily. However, with my goldfish memory (I sometimes forget what I’m saying mid-sentence!) I tend to forget people quite fast as well. If I meet someone and we don’t click from the onset, then there must be something wrong with them. Most times I’m usually right.

9. I have one brother, two step brothers and a step sister. I don’t get along with my brother, but he’s by far the funniest person I’ve ever met in my life. My brothers and I are talented in different ways. My older step brother is an actor, my brother is a comedian, he’s the kind of person who walks into the room and everyone bursts into laughter. I used to act in plays and I have ambitions of becoming a writer someday. My younger step brother is a singer in an up and coming afro-soul band. My step sister is loud and obnoxious just like her mother so I don’t like her much.

10. For some reason, people come to me with their relationship issues like I’m some sort of relationship counselor. I take it in my stride though, I do as much as I can to sort them out. The problem with that is that I can’t use those skills to sort out my own relationship issues!

I hereby bestow the Honest Scrap award on the following deserving bloggers.

a) Ciiku: your brutal honesty should make this quite interesting!

b) Kelitu: Shimba Hills Finest, get on it chap chap!

c) Kahenya: very hilarious blog you’ve got there. We’d like to know a little more about you.

d) Supaflyshi: you never disappoint as far as TMI goes

e) Bomseh: rudi into circulation boss!

f) Zax: Same applies to you, cuz!

g) KD*: Coz I’ve never tagged you before.

Picture of the day!

Arsene Wenger is the master of excuses. Might this be what he's preparing to say at the post-match press conference should Arsenal fail to win tonight?

“Ze pitch was sloping heavily…and we vere attacking on ze upper end!”

What’s on my Playlist?

Cross my mind – Jill Scott

WaPi, Saturday 14th July 2007.

2007-08-13T10:55:00.000+03:00

This post is more than one month overdue, reason for this is that first I had to chase Mrs Mishale so as to get the camera and thus the pics. Secondly, I’ve been trying to watermark the images using The Gimp 2.0 and following some very straight forward instructions from EGM, but trust me to get lost somewhere along the way. Therefore the watermarking flopped. So if anyone sees any one of these pictures being plagiarized elsewhere, just know that you saw them here first!!

The last WaPi (Words and Pictures) was held at the British Council in Upper Hill on July 14th, and here are some of the pictures from the event.

1. GRAFFITI

The theme for the day was “Visionary” so the graffiti artists had to do pieces along that theme. What impressed me most about the graffiti this time round was that each artist did his piece separately, but all the separate pieces had to form one big image written “VISIONARY”

So you’d find one guy working on his unique piece, which in the larger scheme of things would be only 1 letter of the word Visionary. You get my drift?

for example, the pic above is an “A”

for me, this piece stole the show. It’s done by my pal Billy, who could not remember anything about the piece since he was under some serious chemical influence at the time he did this piece. So when I showed him the pics the next week, he was like “Damn, did I do that? Are you for real? Shit, I’m good!!”

The man himself, Billy.

that one spells “VSY” which is short for Visionary. Graffiti is very confusing sometimes

I got a headache trying to decipher this one! I like it but I don’t have a clue what it says. Anyone?

Another one of my favourites. To me it looked like some monster riding a motorcycle. Si you can see the head and the handle bars? Kumbe there’s a hidden message somewhere in it, and in the grand scheme of things it’s supposed to be an “O”

That’s the “V” and the “I”, but separately they read something else. Anyone wanna guess what the V says? Aegeus and Bantu, no you may not attempt this question!

Eh…a good attempt though.

2. DRAWINGS

The main man (or woman…who knows?) Nuru Bahati was back with some more of his biro pen wizardry! If this is not supreme talent, then I don’t know what it is! But THIS right here, remains my favourite of his works (main picture available here)

Jomo Kenyatta

Martin Luther King Jr.

Kwame Nkrumah

Tom Mboya

3. DIGITALLY ALTERED PICTURES

The Samsung Digimax V800 camera that I was using has so many different modes which I wasn’t afraid to give a try. And this is what I came up with.

a) Sepia

Smiling Tom Mboya

I didn't manage to establish who the artist behind these portraits was. Anyone know? But anyway, this was some very good stuff!

Raila Amolo “Agwambo/Tinga/Hummer/Nyundo” Odinga

Pio da Gama Pinto

Jaramogi Oginga Odinga

Ramogi Achieng' Oneko

Masinde Muliro

Johnstone Kamau wa Ngengi alias Baba Uhush Onyatto

George Anyona

b) Inverted colours

Yes, Tom, keep smiling!

(Sidebar: si Kumekucha akiziona hizi picha mob za Tom Mboya, si anaeza mbao mpaka next week?)

Masinde Muliro

Jomo Kenyatta. This is my favourite of the bunch!

4. EXTRAS

The camera isn’t mine, it belongs to my girlfriend, who lets me borrow it on occasion. I’ve had to learn all the different modes and settings by trial and error since she didn’t give me the manual.

In the process I’ve taken some random pictures, there’s one of what Aegeus will look like in 35 years but for the sake of my personal safety, I shall not put that one up. (Dude was spotted carrying an assortment of clubs and whips when he was moving house last month. And I know those are not for decoration, neither are they sex toys!)

A couple of months ago I was toying with the idea of doing a post about the hottest local TV presenters, but I benched that idea since I’d look like one very idle idiot just taking photos of people on TV. Sounds fooresh anyway. So I won’t post any of those pics.

What’s on my Playlist?

In too deep - Damien Marley

Photo Blog under construction

2007-07-31T15:46:00.000+03:00

I'm converting this blog into a photo blog, so it will be under construction for a while. I've also decided to restore my former template. I missed it too much!!

Stay tuned.

Weekend roundup...

2007-06-12T12:57:00.000+03:00

This is just a one off post, to view my primary blog that contains all my other nonsense, bonyeza hapa!!

(Disclaimer: if you think you’ll find any serious rugby news here, hehe! Sorry but you’ll be disappointed. Click HERE instead!)

Finally the 2007 Tusker Safari Sevens was upon us last weekend. I had mad excitoz seeing that I’ve missed Sevens for the last three years. I don’t have much to say about it though coz I was only there for about three hours, and rugby had very little to do with it.

First order of business was to check out the Safari Village and I came across Methu and Modo at Galito’s seriously concentrating on dismembering some rather healthy grilled chicken breasts like no one’s business! Sleeves rolled up, plastic forks and knives clearly not in their agenda, Fanda na Sprite ready to escort the ngoks down to the gut... Well, it’s not so hard to see why they were so engrossed in the chicken, coz around them were hundreds of toddlers looking for hidden corners to perform acts of mischief.

I’d borrowed a digital camera for the day (Samsung 8.1 Megapixel yawa! But do I sssaut?) And in the process of acquainting myself with the features (while the two Ms loudly slurped on their fingers, I came across this young lady:

My dear, your mirror lied to you this morning.

Then, this is what happens when you have a geek and a lunje fiddling with a camera:

Archer: Eh…Methu?

Methu: What? (toying around with buttons)

Archer: Are you seeing what I’m seeing?

Methu: Yes yes, the resolution is quite good.

Archer: sio resolution dadii! But I hope you are zooming in?

Methu: you know, if I zoom any further it’ll mess up the resolution. In fact you need to adjust the contrast since the shutter speed...

Archer: Wee acha siasa mingi upige picha!

And voila!

Methu you were right, the resolution is quite good!!

I have to admit that in all the years that I’ve been for the Safari Sevens, I’ve never gone down to the pitch to watch a match. Yes, you read that correctly. I have never watched a single rugby match at Safari Sevens! When it comes to rugby, I only know the basics. You score a try, get 5 points, convert it and get 2 more points. Kwisha. Maneno ya ma flyhalf na ma line out mi sijui. I just know who a fullback and a winger is (coz Bryan Habana is one. Just give that chap the ball and all the work is done!)

So Methu, Modo and I found ourselves in the main stands, among the main hecklers, watching (or at least pretending to be) the Uganda vs Tunisia match. While our brothers from the west were getting their asses thrashed....I was looking elsewhere!

and the view “elsewhere” was quite alright! Clearly fashion knows no weather...

Watu walikunywa fooobe, and of course the usual hecklers were out in full swing.

"Huyu mngoso asipomaliza ataniangushia ngiri tano!!"

"Hoi mate, just watch my wallet"

Haiyaaaaaaaeee! Kwani huyu mse mi m-Irish? Sa nitoe ngiri tano wapi?

Shortly the rain caught guys unawares during the Kenya Vs Japan match, but trust Kenyan rugby fans to remain patriotic no matter what. We cheered our boys to sweet victory (in what becomes the first match that I’ve actually ever watched at Sevens) and just after the final whistle went, the pitch was deserted in record time.

It poured incessantly and that effectively put an end to any plans to have a few beers at the village while looking to pick up a woman or two. The Safaricom network was completely congested, no calls or text messages were coming in or going out. Switching over to Celtel was useless since the fools forgot to send vendors over to the KRFU grounds! So here you are stuck with one unreliable network, and another for which you can’t find any credit!! How stupid is that!!

Na Sevens yetu ikaisha papo hapo.

Come Sunday, of course I missed the Canadian Grand Prix and yet again, trust the local media not to consider it newsworthy during their prime time news. I suspect that KTN may have showed the highlights in their daily sports show) NTV did mention Lewis Hamiltion’s victory last night, but they showed clips from the qualifying sessions on Saturday!! You guys asked for it:

Fokojembe of the week (for the second week running)

NTV sports team! You guys are utterly, utterly useless!!

Anyway, Lewis Hamilton finally got his first grand prix win, and now goes ahead to top the championship. Way to go McLaren!! Wazi Hamilton! This boy is THE FUTURE of Formula 1!

Now, Bankelele, are you joining us or not? Sooner rather than when we’re dishing out all the trophies at the end of the season! Some of us have been waiting too long to have a season this good!! In fact, I give you my word, if you defect to McLaren Mercedes, I will personally welcome you with a McLaren Mercedes team jacket! (Terms and conditions apply!)

In other news, Real Madrid are close to sealing a Primera Liga trophy for the first time since 2003. Just as long as it’s not Barca taking the trophy, I’m happy!!!!

What’s on my playlist?

When was the last time anyone heard this Kenyan gem? I last heard it way back in the early 90s. It will especially apply to you if you’re over age 25 coz I’m sure you’ll remember it. (Betty don’t bother. Si you’re still under 18?)

(I can almost see EGM cycling home from jobo with his iPod plugged in singing to himself

“safari niliyo nayo ni ndefu sana o-oh, sijui mwaka gani nitarudi yo-yoooh”

Click HERE to download/play Nimaru (John Ngereza)

Knock yourselves out!!

A.O.B

There’s a person who left a comment on a previous post about a month ago (using a fake e-mail address so I was not able to email him/her back) anyway, this person complained that I’d used a derogative phrase in the post and requested me to take it down. If you’re reading this, I’ve edited the post and removed the offending phrase. My apologies, for any offence was not intentional.

Difficult choices

2007-02-09T12:43:00.000+03:00

It’s interesting that I typed out this post two nights ago, only for some of the same issues to be aired on TV last night and discussed in today’s papers. We all know that very many of our youth are having sex, some as young as 12!! (saw that on KTN last night) However much we’d want to hide our heads in the sand and not think about it, young people ARE having sex. A lot of it for that matter. So next time you look at your teenage bro or sis, just know he/she may be getting laid more often than you are!

Let’s look at unwanted pregnancies and abortion (flushing as it’s also referred to) for a minute, with particular reference to the youth, and some of the issues that it brings up. I’m writing this from the ignorant perspective of a man who has never been pregnant, doesn’t intend to ever be, and doesn’t know what goes on in the mind of a pregnant woman as she decides whether to abort the kid or to keep it. So please co-operate with me here even though I know I’ve not brought forth the argument as clearly as the idea appeared in my mind.

Situation 1

Early last February, on the last weekend before I went back to South Africa, I was out at Crooked Qs with the Mrs, when a young chic who’s a family friend (she’s about 16 or 17) came in with a bunch of very thuggish looking dudes. First I was wondering how the hell my aunt let her leave the digz in that skimpy belt masquerading as a miniskirt. It basically left nothing to the imagination! And let’s be honest here, huyu manzi amebarikiwa vilivyo. But she’s 17!!! Chic walks up to me and asks me to buy her a drink. So I switched to “overprotective big brother mode” and I unleashed a barrage of questions, asking if her mother knew she was out in a nightclub dressed like a hooker and who those guys were. And of course I refused to buy her a drink! Well, she quickly dismissed me with “Who the hell do you think you to question me? Go f*** yourself! I can get pints from someone else!”

Punde si punde the young lady had an assortment of tequilas, sambuca and a couple of Tusker Malts in front of her. About an hour later I spotted her dancing atop a table with guys gawking at her goodies from under her skirt and slapping her thighs. I was tempted to grab her, throw her into my car and drive her home but I couldn’t. At the end of the night as I was leaving, I spotted her, drunk as a dodo, in a street corner making out with one of the dudes that she’d come in with, with his hand firmly grasping her ample rear end.

Many months later, I got word that the chic had just given birth to twins! AT SEVENTEEN!!! Not only that, the baby daddy had denied paternity and bounced. Word has it that he has one or two other baby mamas around Nairobi.

Situation 2

In the last few weeks, a few chic friends of mine have confessed to having had an abortion done last year. I’m talking about four different chics. And they’re not ati toiz, they’re in their mid twenties.

In South Africa alone where abortion is legal and is even covered by one’s medical insurance, I know of several chics, many of them friends of mine, who have “flushed” since 2004. These days I have to count those among my female friends who have not had an abortion. And it’s becoming more difficult by the day. And it’s no big deal to them. I’d think that it should be, ama? I don’t know what goes on inside the mind of a woman who’s considering having an abortion or has already had it done, so someone please tell me. But I’d think one should be traumatized, having feelings of guilt...right?

One day in June, a pal of mine was coming to stay at my apartment since I wasn’t going to be in town during the vacation period. He came with his mama, but she left shortly. Dude was looking quite stressed so I asked him wsup. Dude told me he had to part with his entire allowance for the month to pay for his chic’s abortion. Chic wasn’t on medical insurance so they had to pay for it in cash. A few hours later, she was back at my place, looking like nothing had happened. Smiling tu kama kawaida. I couldn’t believe it!

I even know one very close friend of mine who “flushed” twice within months of each other!! Ok, maybe falling pregnant the first time might have been a mistake, but I thought that’s how people learn their lessons. From experience. So how do you go out and make the same mistake again? Now that’s just dense! After getting into such a predicament you should learn to keep your legs together. I’m not implying that the sperm donors are not equally to blame coz they are. Some people should be banned from having sex for life.

And also, it’s no secret that you don’t have to go to some back street clinic in Nairobi to have the procedure done. It can, and is done at major private hospitals in Nairobi although on the low low. Everyone involved knows that getting busted means a death penalty since the Kenyan constitution prohibits abortion, so it’s in their best interests to shut up about it.

So what’s my point? It surprises me that in this day and age, very many young people still engage in reckless sexual behaviour. Not only does one have to deal with unwanted pregnancy, but aren’t young people afraid of contracting HIV and other STDs? And in a place like South Africa with a shockingly high HIV rate (official stats at my university had it at 14%, but it’s suspected to be as high as 50%!!!!!) And where many students within the Kenyan circle sleep with each other on a rotational basis. It’s like one great Kenyan orgy down there. I’ve told guys severally that if one, just one Kenyan contracts HIV, best believe that guys will drop like flies! Especially for those who have casual sex when “the need” arises. How in heaven’s name do you meet a dude or a chic, then decide to go bump pelvises bila protection? Are you stupid or what? Some people have a death wish!

Something else I need to ask, does the responsibility of carrying condoms fall only on the dude? I had this debate with some of my friends last weekend, and some of the chics insist that it’s primarily the guy’s responsibility. OK but what happens if you’re in the mood but the jamaa doesn’t have any condoms at that moment? Or kwani the sex comes to you as a surprise? Ati “alaa.... legs, iz how mumejifungua?” I’d respect any chic that takes it upon herself to have condoms as well, coz it shows that she’s thinking ahead, being prepared for any eventuality. One doesn’t have to be thinking about getting laid to carry condoms, just as one doesn’t have to be preparing for a head on collision to wear a seatbelt. Ladies reading this, please advise.

And yes I had to go here. If you don’t like what you’re about to read, come bite my ass. SOME women (note the emphatic use of the word SOME) are very scheming creatures. Some fall pregnant with the intention of trapping the dude if he’s planning to leave her. Of course the pregnancy doesn’t happen via bluetooth or WiFi so it’s not as if she impregnated herself. But surely, if you’re going out with a dude, you guys are faithful to each other, you’ve both been tested and therefore decide to partake of the delicious chicken without wearing gloves while the chic is on the pill, I find it sickening that the chic can decide to stop using her contraceptives without telling the guy and therefore falls pregnant. How does one do that?

A pal of mine in SA was going out with a dangerously fwyne mama who was madly in love with him. The dude claims to love her too although it was no secret that he used to outsource regularly. Anyway the jamaa was about to graduate and go back to his home country, and the chic, knowing that that would probably mean the end of their three year relationship, stopped taking the pill and got pregnant. They had a son about 5 months ago and now he’s been forced to marry her!

A certain control freak I had the misfortune of having a thing with told me that her previous boyfriend wanted to break up with her, so she conveniently fell pregnant as a way of trapping him. It worked, the pregnancy part. Unfortunately she miscarried so her plan backfired coz once the guy found out the baby was no more, he took off! I don’t blame him. The stupid b*tch tried the same thing on me! I had tried severally to ditch her ass but she still kept coming back. So she pulled the same trick on me by trying to have unprotected sex (which I strictly do not do. I believe in no glove no love), but being the sharp ass jamaa that I am, I didn’t fall for it!!! Right now y’all would be calling me baba nanii.

I think such women should be shot. Repeatedly. Then hang from the closest tree until vultures and maggots finish the job. Then the bones should he fed to some stray dogs. I think that’s one of the most selfish things that you can possibly do to someone. I mean....How the fuck? If the dude decides that he’s leaving you, deal with it! Trapping the dude by getting pregnant is not a guarantee that you’ll live happily ever after.

Guys have always been accused of sambazaing the essence of their loins ovyo ovyo but to every story there are two sides! One of which is rarely ever considered. Not that I support guys with such behaviour.

We all know that Nini Wacera spews forth a lot of crap on radio, but for once she said something of maana a couple of weeks ago. Some chic called in and said that she was pregnant and her boyfriend took off and left her to deal with it. She was wondering whether to abort the toi or keep it, seeing that she was still in high school and she was afraid to face her parents with the news that she was pregnant. Nini said that a very high percentage of women will have at least one abortion in their lifetime. (Ladies, again please advise) She, as well as several other callers, advised the chic to keep the kid, even if the folks would throw a fit upon hearing that she’s pregnant. The folks will definitely be mad at you but once the kid is born, it’s all forgotten. Of the few chics I know who decided to keep the kid, none of them ever regretted their decision to keep the kid.

I’m firmly against abortion unless it’s in situations where it’s absolutely necessary. I just can’t see how someone can destroy a human life and act as if nothing ever happened, and then go back to living the same reckless life that got them into that situation in the first place. Doesn’t the guilt ever bother you? What if the kid could have grown to be the next Nelson Mandela or Wangari Maathai? If ever I got into the unfortunate predicament of early fatherhood, however painful and difficult as it may be, I’d strive to keep the kid. But unfortunately guys really don’t have a say in these matters and if the chic decides that she’s getting rid of it, there’s usually nothing much that you can do.

Question: should the dude have a say in the matter? I know it’s her body and the kid’s growing inside her, but he contributed to the pregnancy occuring. I’m not implying that he should coerce the chic into having the kid against her wishes, but if the dude is willing to accept the duties of fatherhood, don’t you think he should have a say?

I’m not judging the chics that have had abortions coz I know a great deal of thought goes into it before the decision is made, and only they can tell you what mental torture they undergo before deciding to “flush”. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. And if keeping the kid would have messed up your life in one way or the other, hey! You do your thing.

Somehow in my own little way, I’m proud of the young chic for keeping the kids. Her mum spoils them thoroughly and it’s obvious that they’ve brought a great deal of happiness into their lives. I hope it’s given her a new focus in her life that now she’ll be more serious with school and with her career coz she knows she’s got someone depending on her now.

FOKOJEMBE OF THE WEEK!!

(Pic courtesy of Sunday Nation Head On Corrishon)

Our good friend James Kamangu has taken Bishop Margaret “The Glowreh!!” Wanjiru to court and among the things he’s demanding from her is a restoration of his conjugal rights!! Boss, do you even know what that is ama it’s been stuffed down your throat by those stupid characters from Maendeleo ya Wanaume?

KAMANGU KUWA SERIOUS!!!!

Here's the furniture!!

2007-02-09T09:59:00.000+03:00

OK OK people, I’ve heard the demands for more regular posts to match the fancy paintjob. I must admit that I’ve been very lazy the last few weeks. I’ve been very introverted lately and I can count the number of times that I’ve left the digz. Before today, I last ventured out last Friday! That’s an entire week indoors. Doing what, you ask? Eating, sleeping, eating, watching tv, eating, dropping nukes over Osama’s hideout in the mountain ranges of the Pakistan-Afghanistan border, sleeping some more, eating and playing Football Manager on my PC. Zero grazing tu. In fact I’ve gained quite a number of kilos since December 14th. When I came back from SA I was very underweight so I had to catch up. Only problem is that I don’t really see where all that weight is going to coz I look pretty much the same. Now I really need to get up off my ass and do something useful with myself.

A friend of mine recently made a comment about me that got me thinking. The jamaa says that I’m very narrow minded and un-experimentative (does such a word exist?) when it comes to women. After thinking about it for a while, I realized that he probably had a valid point. Most of my ex-girlfriends (plus the kadhaa miscellaneous clandes) look so alike that if you had them all in a police line-up, you’d think they’re all sisters! Yaani I’m attracted to one type of woman only and my mind completely switches off when presented with other options.

So what type of woman is Archer attracted to, you ask? Well...shorter than myself (tall chics scare the shit out of me, probably as a result of being bullied in praimo by some other tall chile), light skinned, and I like them healthy! As in generously endowed. Curvaceous if you like. Wouldn’t have it any other way, mazee I’m from the land of ingokho, I’m allowed!! Now what do I do with a pack of bones?

So where did all this come from? Well, the guy noticed that I’ve really been eyeing Grace Msalame (the host of KTN’s Str8 Up) and Karmah, the chic who did a collabo with Pam of Sema and kina Nameless, Jua Cali and Wyre on the song Tatizo (currently being overplayed but hey! I get to see her sura more often!!) That Karmah chile be fwyne! Very pretty babyface, million dollar smile tena coz her eyes light up. My boy hates on her ati she’s got Down’s syndrome coz she’s got a flat face and a tiny nose. I say even if she did have Downs Syndrome, she’d still be hot! With the little tu pimples forming a ka triangle on the sides of each eye. Beauty beyond. Now that’s the perfect description of my kind of woman.

Word has it that Grace is one of the most highly sought after chics in Nairobi at the moment but she keeps a very low profile, yaani no one knows anyone who knows her. Sharp chic. Of all the Str8 Up hosts (yes I know it’s a show for teenagers but with fwyne hosts like Grace and Anjlee, I’m a watch it!! The other pack of bones kaaz a dulaa kabisa and Andrew is so full of himself yet he can’t read the bloody autocue. Illiterate pompous bugger!) I think Grace is the most mature and intelligent looking of the lot plus me thinks she’s got a good personality to match. In addition, she has a posterior that Google Earth would only be too glad to help you locate. And if anyone was as idle as I was last evening (Thursday 8th Feb) chica was looking tight yaani a goddess has nothing on her!!

So that sums up my two current crushes. Unfortunately I’ve searched the internet for pics of Grace, but the one at Surazuri agency’s website must be of her neighbour coz she’s definitely much fwyner then that. As for Karma, I’m sure y’all have seen the video for Tatizo. If not, keep watching TV and you’ll see it. She's on the back cover of today's Pulse magazine though, I'll scan it and post it next week. Mmm mmm mmm!! Hot maneno!

A.O.B

One of these fine days I’m going to take a hammer and smash the TV!! Why is it that every time I turn it on, there’s MTV Base showing either that tired character “The Game” jumping over fences and showing off his multiple chains, or the incredibly ugly “Lil Wayne” showing off his thao tattoos, thinking he’s so cool with his jeans sagging down to his knees? I just can’t stand seeing the same sh*t over and over again!

And what’s with every other rapper throwing around hundred dollar bills? Ata kama you want us to believe that you’re successful like that, I don’t think that’s appropriate, ama? What are you trying to show us yet we know the Rolls-Royce Phantoms and Lamborghini Murcielagos in your videos are all hired? And so is much of your bling and the big ass houses with 10 jacuzzis and swimming pools? Si you use that money you’re throwing around to buy your own?

Other “artistes” that I think should be shot in the ass are Omarion for that wack new track featuring Timbaland. He's got zero acting skills as well. Chris Brown the ka teenager is the second. Dude thinks he’s the re-incarnation of Usher. Can someone please encourage him to seek an alternative career as a butcher or a vet or something along that line?

One of the reasons why I do not listen to hip hop is coz I don’t like the way that women have been disrespected and objectified, dissed left and right by being referred to in some very unsavoury terms. But I find it ridiculous that for some of the most vulgar hip hop tracks that exist, you find that it’s the chics who enjoy them more than guys do. Sample this. You’re in a club and Ying Yang Twins “Wait-The Whisper Song" is playing, and it’s the mamaz yelling at the top of their voices till their throats go sore:

Wait till you see my d***/
Wait till you see my d***/
Hey b****/
Wait till you see my d***/
I’m a beat that p**** up!!

In that case I say, RAP ON!!

Na hiyo...ni Maendeleo!

2007-02-05T10:42:00.001+03:00

Good morning folks!

New year, new changes!! As you can see, I've been doing a bit of
housekeeping around mi casa. After fidgetting around with this new
template for 3 months now, I've finally been able to upload it onto my
blog. Now that the Kaybees might be coming up in a few months, that
category for "best modified template" si mnaijua? Yes, that one. Si
you'll remember to nominate and vote for pwana Archer in that
category? Yes, najipigia debe, una shida? (bribes of the frothy nature
can be organized though. See me sideways! [nione kando] *I can't
remember which KBWer came up with this here phrase in 2006 but
unajijua, sivyo?*)

Now, not everything is easy breezy. In order for the new template to
work, we had to revert to the old version of Blogger, as it does not
support the new version. So this is basically a trial run. Please be
generous with your opinions and feedback.
a) What do you think about the new template?
b) How easy is it to navigate around the blog?
c) For those of you on the new version of Blogger, can you still post
comments here without having to switch to anonymous?

All this would not have been possible without the generous assistance
of my good sir, the chief KBW pimp/ comedian extraordinaire Aegeus.
Big Ups! Kudos go to KBW Admin as well for their advice and assistance
with this template during the earlier stages. Big ups to you too.

Na hiyo...(looks around mi casa appreciating the new paintjob)...ni maendeleo!

Random quips and Suspicious Bishops

2007-01-19T14:07:00.000+03:00

After reading the Daily Nation article on 25th December 2006 about 63% of single women in Kenya having not found suitable men to marry them, I thought it was ridiculous to suggest something like that. I wanted to write up a post about it but Stackofstiffyz and Aco beat me to it. A few responses to that article have been written in last Saturday’s edition of the Nation, but what made my day was Flakes (Saturday Magazine) by Kate Getao who compares courtship to procurement. She says:

"Like courtship, part of the problem why so many procurements are unsuccessful are the mandatory requirements. This is a list of conditions that must be fulfilled for the bid to succeed. Most young ladies have a very long list of impossible requirements so that most young men who knock on their doors fail to meet the requirements and are declared substantially non responsive."

My main man Oyunga Pala joins in with this:

"The needs of today’s Kenyan woman are beyond anything that their mothers ever fathomed. No fellow besides a TV caricature could ever meet these standards. Women are well aware of this but it doesn’t stop them from continual fantasy. Real men are very basic. Take another look at your father."

Another article in the same Saturday magazine by one Cosmas Butunyi says:

"...the crisis is not due to a shortage in the XY chromosome combination. There are droves of men roaming the streets, many more are landing at the maternity wings, and many, many more are being conceived. It’s just that they do not bear the elusive characteristics that would make them pass for what the female fraternity would like to call Mr. Right. For starters, a weak wallet is the brothers’ tallest shortcoming."

He further adds:

"The single and selectively searching sisters also claim that men are ruthless dogs with the unfaithful mind of a cockerel, masquerading as humans. What escapes the feminine minds is the fact that the dudes are outdoing themselves to fit the bad boy image. Apparently this is what turns the girls, knees into jelly"

Well said. I’m not hating against our dear Kenyan sisters, we love you all but tafadhali yaani, let’s be realistic here. I’m sure there is a way in which we can co operate. Serious adjustments to current perceptions and expectations have to be made, and step one would be for y’all to quit watching those low budget Mexican soaps and come back down to earth. Good single men do exist na tena wako weeeeeengi sana. In fact I consider myself to be one and I have lots of character witnesses to prove this (Kenyanchick & Kipepeo please step forward) Look in the right places and you will find that good man. I can’t tell you where exactly to look, (coz it’s not like we all hang out at the same place) but I can advise you to keep your eyes open. In fact, if you start now, you just might perfect the art of attracting the right men and save yourself the embarrassment of being 30 something, single but desperately searching, but where the requirement list has been reduced from:

1. Must be tall dark and handsome (??)
2. Must have plenty of cash to spend on me (and my friends)
3. Must have a fancy car (with a Mitsubishi Galant being the starting point)
4. Must perform at par with a nuclear powered dildo.
5. Must be willing to fund a lavish wedding within the next year or so, complete with diamond rings, Saville Row suits, a fleet of silver Mercedes Benz, honeymoon in Hawaai or some other tiny island in the middle of nowhere

to:

1. A man who won’t beat me
2. A man who can still see his toes while standing upright.
3. A man who can give me at least one orgasm a month.

In a related matter, please have a look at this commentary that appeared in the Sunday Standard concerning Bishop Margaret "The Glowreh! Of the Lordah! Is here!" Wanjiru, she of the " A man once offered himself to me, but I told him, I don’t-ah accept-a cheap-a gifts-a" fame, and her South African fiancé, one Bishop Matjeke. Enyewe that dude looks very suspect, he appears to have a permanent "mugshot" expression with a fishy smile like he’s been smoking some cheap weed.Dude must have served time at Pollsmoor Prison, or a few months kwa rumande. Kwani she couldn’t find herself a better specimen? (But even judging from the ex hubby...she just has straight up bad taste) Bishop Wanjiru KUWA SERIOUS!!

The dude looks so timid yaani it’s so obvious who wears the pants in that family. I’m sure Wanjiru will kalia him proper!

The author says:

"A word of caution to our girls: if you wish to cure loneliness with a foreigner, look for a good one. For the sake of our Vision 2030, we need good genes especially if they remain with us. It is wrong for our young women to grab the next grizzlied foreigner in the name of going international. If you must eat a toad, look for the juiciest!"

I’ve really been enjoying the unfolding drama between Bishop Wanjiru and her alleged ex-hubby James Kamangu. Waaaah! Now if I thought Bishop Bafana looks suspect, Kamangu looks like a proper thug! Wrong number. He looks like he can unleash a one man mob on your ass with the slightest provocation. One of his hobbies must be attending public lynchings in Gachie area, just to add a few kicks here and there. Have you seen his expression, tena when he has his face slightly lowered? Even bila eyebrows, bado anatisha!

I’m trying to imagine a chance encounter between Kamangu, Wanjiru and Bishop "Suspicious" Matjeke:

Scene: Bishop Wanjiru’s residence. One fine Saturday afternoon. She’s watching a re-run of her weekly show the previous Sunday, and giggling as she sees how she abused Kamangu. "He can get a rope, hang himself, then we shall do the funeral" she repeats word for word. "Suspicious" Matjeke is taking a nap on the adjacent sofa. Sweet dreams....Wanjiru yu mfukoni, dude has seen the safe and confirmed that he’s hit the jackpot proper. Ahh...no worries for him. But alas!

(Loud thumping at the door): WAJIRO!! WAAAJIRO!! FUGUA HAPA HARAKA!!

Wanjiru: (spilling coffee on self as she jolts at the shock of hearing THAT familiar voice) WOI NJISAS!!! How the.......(Getting up hurriedly) MATJEKEE!!

Suspicious Matjeke: (Dazed out of his mind, leaps into attention, complete with salute) Yebo Afande!! (Probably was reminiscing about the dark old days at Pollsmoor Prison)

Wanjiru: Wuuuuuuuuiiiiiiiiiiii hako Kamangu kamekuja!!

Suspicious Matjeke: (Quickly leaps behind nearest sofa, scared out of his mind)

Wanjiru: (Surprised) What the hell are you doing?

Suspicious Matjeke: But Maggie...I’m scared! What if he hits me?

Wanjiru: Did I marry a Zulu warrior or a hwizo {weasel} Get out of there and do something! Braddy coward!

Kamangu: (still banging door) Unadhani utaederea kunishafuashafua tu freestairo (freestyle) kwa gazeti? Fugua hapa unitukane ukiniona! Nionyeshe hizo jiggers unasema ati niko nazo! Reo nitakutwanga mpaka utaimbaimba kama kinanda!

Wanjiru: (Petrified) My dear Jesus..... Matjeke can you do something!!

Suspicious Matjeke: (Still cowering in fear, trembling visibly) but Maggie.........

Wanjiru: Don’t you Maggie me! Kuja hapa!! (grabs Matjeke by the collar and drags him in direction of the door) Can you stop behaving like a kihii!

Suspicious Matjeke: Afande vhane usinihandeeeeeeeeeeeeee!*

(Fill in for yourselves what happened next)

OK back to the topic, I find the author’s insinuation about Kenyan men a bit ...er......interesting

Wanjurah says:

"The flip side of the Bishop Bafana Bafana love is an indictment of our men. They don’t seem to possess adequate mettle to snare good girls. Alternatively, they are so generous that, in practical Pan-Africanism, they are willing to release their Wanjirus to foreigners."

(S)he adds:

"How a nation’s man allow foreigners to snatch prized daughters without demur speaks volumes about their chivalry. Serious men strive to own their women - at least the best girls and never mind by which measure. If a community marries off to foreign lands all its good maidens, it is probably more out of social malaise and courtship limitations than hospitality and love for integration."

What do you guys think we as Kenyan men should deduce from this? That we are inadequate? That we’re not being protective enough of our women? Na huyu Bishop "Suspicious" Bafana achukue mali yetu ama akwende?

*K-South -Mr Policeman.This track is sooo hilarious!

A.O.B

Those who were demanding for the report on the meet up with Kenyanchick, y’all were too slow with the bribes!! What happened? Let’s just say that KC came through with a very handsome bribe to keep my mouth shut about the night out. So that report has been BENCHED indefinitely! Poleni sana. You snooze, you lose.

Resolutions and Tech-talk

2007-01-19T13:39:00.000+03:00

Archer is back! Today I open up my account for the new year after a brief but fully deserved hiatus due to a serious case of December hangovers and a bout of Blogger’s Block! The mojo is back and the festive season hangovers are history. So now you all know where to tune in for your regular dosage of 5 bob opinions and other crap!

I never make new year’s resolutions coz I rarely ever keep them. Last year it was a vow of chastity that lasted er......ten months! Enyewe hapo I tried, clap for me jameni!10 months without sex? Jeez! I find it very interesting that me and my youthful abundance of nyegez can abstain from sex for 10 months but can’t keep away from a cigarette for more than 48 hours? Ok lemme quit the oversharing.

This year I’ve made a few resolutions which I believe will make me a better person if I fully focus on achieving them. There’s so much that I want to accomplish this year. Anyway, my resolutions are as follows

1. To read more. A lot more.

Refer to this post.

2. To quit being a lazy blogger.

Towards the end of last year I became increasingly lazy when it came to replying to comments on my blog as well as posting comments on other blogs that I read regularly. I’d just read stuff and move on. Well, this year I intend to interact more with my blogger pals and to make new ones along the way.

3. To shed excess baggage

This year I will have no time for so called friends who are only by my side when times are good. You only realize how many true friends you have when shit hits the fan and guys are not there to help you out, or they just ignore you. For example, I’ve been very broke the last few weeks, and in addition I’ve been carless. That means that I’ve had to make very random plans while going out, hoping that somehow things work out during the night. I’m pissed off coz some of the friends that I’d do anything for, the ones who used to call me in the middle of the night claiming to be stranded somewhere and I’d go out in my pajamas to bail them out, never ever come through for my ass. Well, fuck you! This year I’ll have no time for your likes. You can all faggoff!!

4. To be completely financially independent

The main problem with living under your parents’ roof is that you have to rely on them for everything, something that I absolutely hate coz they use that to control you as well as to bribe you to do certain things. I aim to be financially independent by the end of this year. It’s time to put those ideas into action. I have a bit of capital stashed away somewhere and if I invest wisely, I could do plenty of things with it. Some of my pals have been busy dabbling in this and that and they’ve made a lot of money for themselves. Last night at the pub I was with three of them, sharing ideas and getting advice on how to start off. I’m particularly impressed with one of them, a dude who’s 19 going on 20, and he made so much money last year from investing here and there. He claims to have made slightly less than a million bob from the Kengen IPO alone, mpaka the dude bought himself a Mitsubishi Galant just a couple of weeks ago! Dude is 19!!! If I jipanga vizuri, I could be worth half a million shillings by the end of the year. Sounds rather ambitious but that’s the target that I’ve set for myself. Even if I don’t quite make it to there, at least I’ll have learnt something along the way.

5. To live life differently and to enjoy myself to the limit!

This year I want to do stuff that I haven’t done before, or basically stuff that I’ve procrastinated about for too long. This maneno of chilling the whole week then ending up at bloody Crooked Qs with the same old crowd has got too change. Thanks to Kenyanchick I’ve now been to three different joints that I’d never have thought of going to. And I’ve got to try out stuff like bungee jumping, encouraging domestic tourism e.g out of town plans with a select few friends (Ole Polos, anyone?)

6. Women

Women can sometimes be a pain in the diab therefore I’m staying single until further notice. And I’m going to enjoy it immensely.

Ok that’s that. Archer’s resolutions.

Now to tech-talk.Finally the dudes over at Opera answered my prayers and released Opera Mini V3.0 which now allows me to comment on Blogger Beta blogs after a few months of being left out of the action. But what about WordPress? You idiots forgot about WordPress! For some reason I can only comment on my tester WordPress blog but not on any other WordPress blog. So now do I have to wait for V4.0? I’m very very basic in my needs, just allow me to comment on WordPress and I’ll be happy!

But all the same, I highly recommend Opera Mini to anyone who has a cellphone that can support it. In fact it works on almost every make of cellphone, (well except if you have Kenyanchick’s brand new Nokia N105- the world's first 10 megapixel camera phone)

It is the best mobile internet browsing application available and it’s very easy to use, while being extremely cheap at the same time. All you have to do is activate your WAP & GPRS settings, which on Safaricom can be done by sending an sms with “DATA” to 4777. A series of configuration texts will be sent to you. Open and save them all, the configuration password will be either 1234 or 0000. For Celtel, hapo sina habari. Call customer care. Then, using your web browser, go to www.mini.opera.com and follow the download instructions and voila! You’re sorted!

I’ve been playing Football Manager 2005 on my PC, right now I’m in the 2008/2009 season with Chelsea FC. Well, this season has been pretty tough with my team languishing below the top 5 in the Premier League and not faring any better in Champions League. I’m on the verge of being sacked as manager but this is where the problem comes in. If I lose my next match against Lazio in Champions League, I won’t qualify for the knock-out stage and I’m definitely being sacked. Me thinks the outcome of certain matches is predetermined coz no matter how many times I change my team’s starting line-up, formation or strategy, I always lose to Lazio! Every single time! I’ve played this match kedo 14 times and each time I lose 6:1 or somewhere along that line! How now? Hapa ninafutwa job roho safi. And why is it that just before a big match somehow all my key players receive long term injuries? That shit pisses me off!

It’s the same thing that I’ve noticed with FIFA 2007 on PlayStation 2. There are some players who, no matter how hard you try to stop them, you just can’t! I don’t know if anyone else has noticed this but for example if you’re playing against Barcelona and Lionel Messi is approaching your penalty area, it doesn’t matter if you select all the defensive strategy options available or if you have the world’s best defenders in your team, they all slide in the wrong direction allowing Messi to run along the by line and score! And there’s absolutely nothing that you can do about it! Try it for yourself and let me know if I’m right.

Another thing is that there are some players who, if they’re positioned just outside the 18 yard box, they WILL score. Try shooting with Wayne Rooney from anywhere along the 18 yard line and chances are that you’ll score. Ok I know that every player is ranked according to skill and that Messi and Rooney are at the top of their skill ratings, but it’s totally unrealistic that there’s absolutely nothing that you can do to prevent them from scoring.

Try it out and tell me what you think.

A.O.B

I found out, after getting sacked, that you can simply start the game as a new user and apply for a job at the club you just got fired from. I also found out that the reason why my team was nashing is coz my #1 keeper Petr Cech had requested to be transfer listed but I refused to grant that request, so the fool decided to stand in goal and allow every shot to go in. So I sacked him and also got a few new players. I believe I’ve discovered a super-team combination with these players coz I’ve just won the Premier Division, FA Cup, League Cup, Charity Shield and European Champions Cup with this team:

GK: Tim Howard, Victor Valdes, Carlo Cudicini

DEF: Gael Givet, William Gallas, John Terry, Ricardo Carvalho, Philipp Lahm, Asier del Horno, Luciano Zauri

DM: Esteban Cambiasso, Geremi

Wingers: Clemens Fritz, Cristiano Ronaldo, Damien Duff, Javier Araujo

AM: Frank Lampard, Ronaldinho, Wesley Sneijder

STR: Fernando Torres, Mateja Kezman, Jermaine Defoe.

If anyone else is as much of a Football Manager fanatic as I am, please, share your super-team.

Aaaaaaaargh!!

2006-12-29T06:11:00.001+03:00

First things first, blogger just dished up my post twice! So I had to
re-send via Gmail!

I missed the KBW meet up on 23rd Dec! I only found out about it much
later on Aegeus blog! Well, that's too bad coz it'd have been great to
meet and hang out with all you guys. Hope y'all had a blast. Anyone
care to fill in the rest of us on what went down?

Nairobi is ok I guess. Haven't ventured out much coz some silly
Nairobian bashed my poor Helen so she's been admitted to the jikoni
until further notice! And I feel so helpless trying to get around
without my car. I guess I'll have to get used to using the Mercedes
J-Class now. (J-Class = Javelin = Jav = Matatu. Get it?? Good!)

Coming up soon: detailed report on the night out with Kenyanchick!! Stay tuned.

Oh...happy festive season to all.

Nairobi here I come!

2006-12-14T11:15:00.001+03:00

This is Archer coming to you LIVE from O. R. Tambo International Airport
(formerly Johannesburg International) about to board a Kenya
Airways Boeing 737 flight 461 to Nairobi.

I can't believe I'll be on home soil in just over four hours! The way I've
waited desperately to leave this fucked up joint aki it's not even
funny! Anyway it's
all over now.
Yaaaay!

I've already spoken to the Captain and he's assured me that its full
speed ahead. Hii mambo ya cruising along leisurely sitaki! It shall
not be tolerated at all!

So if anyone sees some lunatic on KTN news this evening, clad in a Harambee
Stars jersey, jumping up and down at JKIA and kissing the ground
repeatedly, that
would most definitely be me! Best believe!
So make sure y'all record that shyte!

Ok who's throwing pints at Kwaheri Bar? Kenyanchick? Kipepeo? I'm open
to any offers!

Isukuti dancers je? Aegeus & Ichiena niaje? Si you organize that
welcoming committee? Wacha kuangalia kando! Ati "who....me?"
YES...YOU! And there's still time so better get cracking!
LOL!!

Stackofstiffys I wasn't going to leave you out dadii! You bring your dark
shades, look very stonefaced and intimidating just to keep the press
at bay! But if its Julie Gichuru... that one just let her through chap
chap!

NA HAPA SIRUDI TENA! As the good professor of mathematics George
Saitoti would say "Kabisa kabisa kabisa!!"

Picture post

2006-12-08T16:30:00.000+03:00

Just decided to share a few pictures that I've taken during the last one year. Blogger is acting up so I couldn't put them in the order that I'd intended, but hope you enjoy them none the less.

That's my little spot in the sun, "my bench" where I come to sit and think. Best done with a couple of gafs, a coke and an MP3 player.

My bowling shoes. THose are size 13.5, that's why they look so funny. Not to mention the colour of course.

At least you're a world champion!

The infamous staircase where I assumed flight a few months ago. The brutes threw me from the top, picked me up and threw me down the second flight. I'm ok though, so no sympathy comments tafadhali. That's a chapter closed but not forgotten.

I wonder what's next, Sembe Avenue?

A free beer + a plate of mutura & soup goes to whoever can correctly guess which establishment in Nairobi owns this here sign.

Ass pies? Cheese burger pies?

No comment

My former housemate's pyjamas.

It was on CNN this morning. Did you see it?

I wonder if this dude got any calls.

Sometimes honesty isn't such a good idea

Woe unto you if you're sandwiched between two fat women. It's happened to me before!

I wonder which idiot this was meant for

I pay my fare, you drive your taxi, you shut the fuck up.

This kid crept up on me at the supermarket. I wonder what his mother looks like!

Really? Njoo tuendeshane off-road ndio tujue!

Really? This much? Wow, you don't have top shout about it.

Painful bolingos

2006-12-08T16:01:00.000+03:00

Ok so everyone’s talking about Casino Royale and writing up reviews, so I’m not about to bore y'all with yet another amateur review, when there’s the likes of Movie Buff a.k.a “Wikipedia” & Couch ‘tato to get a better review from. So I’ll be short, brief, concise and to the point. (difference?)

What I like

1. A more realistic story, not about some deranged sadist trying to take over the world using some fancy secret weapon.

2. The usual twists in the tale concerning betrayal by Bond’s closest allies.

3. Daniel Craig: me thinks his acting was on point. Which makes me wonder what the hullabaloo about a blonde James Bond was all about. OK well he’s not the suave woman magnet that Sean Connery and Pierce Brosnan were, but for the sake of the new direction that the 007 movie has taken, I could say he’s ok. Finally a 007 who can hold his own in a fight! I admire his blunt personality “Do I look like I give a damn?”

4. Judi Dench as M: I can’t picture any other actress in the world playing the role of M. She carries it quite well. Favourite line “utter another syllable and I’ll have you killed!”

5. Solange!!! Need I say more?

What I didn’t like

1. Too much CGI, especially in the scene where 007 was chasing the bomb guy through the construction site. I mean, the fakeness was too much yawa!

2. What a waste of an Aston Martin!! Not even a decent chase through some narrow streets or something? Just a two minute chase down a curvy road then that’s it? Kuwa serious!

3. What is a 007 movie without the death defying stunts that leave one riveted to his seat? I was disappointed by the lack of action.

4. 007 falling in love? Aw come on!

5. What a crappy theme song!

6. M showing a hint of emotion? Alaa?

7. The torture scene. THE BLOODY TORTURE SCENE!! I can talk for ages about this scene alone! In fact, I will!

The torture scene!

When I saw Le Chiffre rip through the seat with a knife, I thought “sasa unataka Bond aketi wapi?” little did I know what was to follow! That sh*t was painful! PAINFUL I TELL YOU! If you have a pair of “maguados” between your legs then you definitely know what I’m talking about. That shit was not a joke and it annoys me that some people take it out to be just that!

Picture this: right leg crossed tightly over left leg, right hand forming protective cover over “unmentionables” (Milo 2006) in a manner reminiscent of hapless defenders forming a wall to block a ndole from that lunatic Roberto Carlos, left hand covering eyes leaving only a tiny slit to peer through, and a hint of a watery eyes accompanied by an audible “YEEEOOOOUCH” every time Le Chiffre swung his rope at Bond’s….eh….um... those ones (in unison with many of the dudes in the cinema!). The random chic seated to my right was so amused by my contortionist maneuvers that she lent me a comforting hand and whispered “it’ll be ok” I almost ropokad “Woman how the f*** is it going to be ok?”

Later on I recalled reading a certain review of Casino Royale written from a “feminist” perspective, in particular the perception/role of women in the movie. This is nothing personal, but I can’t help wondering how someone would go out to watch the movie and only see things from this one sided point of view. Are you serious? Rather, are you for real? This is a very dangerous way of thinking! I’d call it fishing for an agenda while missing out on other more obvious aspects.
For example, I can say the movie is racist coz the black guy in the Casino is big fat and dense and has no sense of dress whatsoever, and he was among the first to lose the game. Or why is it that one white man (Bond) can beat up a bunch of black men thus making them look like absolute fools. That’s not a realistic way of thinking about it. It makes one miss out on the gist of the movie. Ok so the black kids on the beach were running after a white woman on a horse. Would you rather that they be playing with their PSPs (PlayStation Portable) or something of the sort? It’s just a thing that kids do! Let them run after the horse. Probably they were hoping to get a ride on it or something. It’s totally un-necessary to over analyse such things coz believe me the human mind can conjure up anything it desires to. You only see what your eyes want to see.

Back to brother James and his guados. That sh8t was seriously traumatizing! This is not a laughing matter my friends, it is not. So compose thyself. Imagine what was going through my mind after I went to the little boys room shortly after the movie and in the middle of things, the dude standing next to me at the urinal starts swinging with his lanyard with a big bunch of keys attached to the end.

Imagine the millions of men around the world who not only have to worry about sore bollocks for one night, but the fact that that one torture scene has given their wives ideas?

Think about it this way. After the whole Bobbitt affair, millions of men lived in daily fear of their wives chopping off their artillery as they slept. I wouldn’t be surprised if the numbers of male psychiatric patients rose soon after that. My point is, misandry is slowly creeping into our society, it’s been expressed in film for decades, and no one’s seeing it. Open your eyes and look around you. Yeah I know it’s just a movie, but my point is that we’re living in a time where male bashing is increasing by the day.

The mere fact that guys don’t really speak out about it doesn’t mean we’re not affected by it. Would there be any difference if, for example, Solange was tortured by having her nipples chopped off with a sharp sword, or having them attached to a high voltage power source with a pair of pliers? Definitely we’d never hear the end of it! The press, the feminists, especially those of the keyboard variety would have a field day! But it’s ok for guys to have their balls knocked around in every other movie? I hope I’m making some sense here?

So who’s there to speak out for us poor men?

A.O.B

There are malicious rumours doing the rounds in my comments page that EABL has stopped the production of Pilsner Ice. Can someone please run to the nearest pub and confirm if it's true? I'm serious!

Leaving South Africa

2006-12-07T19:14:00.000+03:00

Finally I’m leaving for Kenya within the next few days and I’m beyond ecstatic coz I really hate this place. I’ve had too many nasty experiences in my three years here to have any feelings left for SA. I just want to leave now! Chances are that I won’t be back next year but who knows. I’ve already made alternative plans for my future and hopefully if things go according to plan, then I won’t have to set foot in this shithole ever again. But these plans are subject to approval by the powers that be, so if the cow refuses, I just might find my ass back here next year.

The worst thing about leaving the country for masomo and going back home is that you find that the guys you used to hang out with haven’t changed a bit. You’ve gone through some experiences that have shaped the way you think, you’ve matured in many ways, then you find your pals still doing the same old thing.

For example, a few of the guys I live close to are bums. I’m not hating. It’s the truth. Guys have been hanging at jobless corner for the last few years doing nothing of significance, just counting cars that pass by and commenting that “hiyo ni gari yangu!” Reply: “Ah kwenda! Si ulisema hiyo Prado ilipita saa hizi ndio yako? Hii ni yangu!”

One of my pals has been “flying out” to the States since before I moved into the hood. He’s just never quite made it to the airport. In 2003 I was killing time at one of those accounting colleges and the dude was flying out. I came to SA in 2004 and went back and he was still flying out “next week”. Ati his Visa was still being processed. 2005 I came back to SA, went home in November and this time the story was “I’ve just got my Visa, now I’m waiting for my ticket.” I wonder what the story will be this time round. He’s waiting for a lift to the airport? If that’s the case, I’ll gladly drive him to JKIA even if it’s at midnight! Come on, you can only chase a shadow for so long before you realize that it’s not going to work out! Why can’t he have done something more useful with his life as he waited for his “flying out” plans to materialize? It doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you’re doing something useful with your life, ama?

Another thing is that at my age (not that I’m a mzee or anything) I’m tired of crowded noisy raves where you mingle with underage girls half your age dressed in nothing more than a belt, getting high on one Tusker Malt and dancing on table tops like strippers on weed. I’m talking about Crooked Qs.

I’ve been going to Qs since I was like 14, and somehow I still find myself still doing the same old thing almost ten years later! See while I have outgrown that type of stuff, my pals still insist on noisy hanyes, just so they can try their luck on shagging these young’ns.

I’ve come to realize that I only need 5 things to have a blast on a Friday or Saturday night

1. My mama, my boys, ok lets just say a good mature chilled out crowd who you can have an intellectual conversation with.
2. A pool table bila crazy drifts and my custom made cue stick.
3. Good music, doesn’t necessarily have to be at the loudest volume possible.
4. Pints, of course!
5. Some nyakez wouldn’t be bad.

That’s it! And you can do this anywhere. In your house, in your backyard or even at (my favourite) a dingy pub somewhere!

At the point where you realize that you’ve changed and you can no longer fit in with your crowd, you start to back off and try to associate with people who think along your wavelength, in this case probably it’s some of my pals I’m studying with in SA. But your boys go like “now just coz you flew out you think you’re better off than us? Fuck off!” That’s not the case my friends. Our lives just took a separate turn somewhere along the line till we don’t automatically have the same interests just coz we’re pals.

Ok, what am I really looking forward to in Nairobi?

1. Pilsner Ice baridi!

2. Kenchic bhajia na kebabs, tena from the Kenchic up Moi Avenue, on the side opposite Nairobi stalls, but keep going up till the end. You know it? Yeah that one. In fact if you ask for me around lunch time on most weekdays, they’ll tell you to have a Coke on credit as you wait.
3. Julie Gichuru reading the 9 o’clock news! (Which channel is she on these days?)
4. Dingy pubs like the one above, Njugunas, police canteens. The drama that unfolds in such joints is hilarious, and so are some of the characters you come across
5. Kenyan music. Boy I’m so behind!
6. The feeling of being around my people than being treated like an outcast “kwerekwere”
7. Capital FM...but from what I hear it’s really become shit these days. True?

What I’m NOT looking forward to

Sacrificing my freedom in SA and going back to my parents’ house.

What I’ll miss about South Africa

1. Cheap liquor.
2. The convenience of life here e.g using my debit card everywhere so I usually don’t have to carry large amounts of cash with me, being able to walk to the hanye or to the garage (petrol station) at 3am to buy stuff.
3. KFC chicken.
4. All the friends I made from all over Africa and Europe.

What I’ll definitely not miss

These fucking AFRIKANERS!!

Thought of the day (leo hakuna A.O.B)

“I am a man of strict and unbending principles, the first of which is to be flexible at all times.”

T.E.S.T.I.N.G

2006-11-27T23:50:00.001+03:00

Testingonetwothreemikecheckonetworewindselektamanuselessareabunchofeunuchsboratsonesickassflickgowatchitifyouhaventalreadycantwaitforcasinoroyaleondecemberfirstifyoureadingthisandyoubothertocommentyougottagetalifeyouidleassmuthafoo!

That ought to do it. Testing complete.

Need an exit strategy!

2006-11-23T17:22:00.000+03:00

I’m losing blog mojo. The words just don’t flow as eloquently as the ideas appear in my mind. I’ve got so much to blog about but I think some link somewhere between the brain and the fingers has a loose nut. Time to take a hiatus, no?

Ok back to the topic. What is the point of a one night stand? It’s supposed to be like magic, isn’t it? You appear, we do our thing, then you disappear! Simple as that! No phone calls the next day, no discussing how the shag was. If we happen to meet some other time, that is by no means a guarantee that the return leg is about to take place. Hii siyo mpira ya champions league!

Sometimes you’re going through a dry spell and you just want to chwado something. Anything! Otherwise you’re stuck playing bano (marbles) with Nick (“pilot” of the KBW bilaz train) and if you read my 6 weird facts tag post a few months ago then you’ll know how long I’ve been losing to Nick. Dude’s a star I tell you! If you didn’t read the post, pole sana.

During one of those dry days, looks don’t matter, coz after lights out, any woman however undesirable turns into Lisa Raye (in fact, she’ll take your Lisa Raye reference as a compliment of her non-existent beauty) As long as the damsel is willing and hopefully she understands that this is a one day special, then that’s all that matters. Oh how wrong I was!

SO WHY DO MY ONE NIGHT STANDS KEEP COMING BACK?!! They always do! Some are worth a repeat performance while others just come back to cause more problems that I can do without!

And once the concept of a one night stand has been defiled, it loses its essence and slowly turns into a CFA/CSA (Convenient F***/ Strokes Arrangement) and before you know it, there’s a toothbrush in your bathroom. Any man knows that a toothbrush is a flag signifying intention to return. Next she’s filling your fridge with cauliflower and low fat milk and adorning your living room with fresh flowers in a vase. Soon, the BMW M5 wallpaper on your PC has been replaced with the mama’s picture as she proudly shows off her molars and dimples, the kind of picture that belong on the wall of her parents’ living room, preferably wrapped in a flowery frame. Before long, she’s showing serious plans of moving in, redecorating your crib, then baadaye she’s talking fancy weddings with all the relaz from the bunduz in attendance and even names for your 2 sons and 3 daughters!!!

Woe unto you if you a chic takes over your life without you even noticing how fast it happened. And pole sana if you try to ditch her coz you’ll get the full emotional blackmail. Why is it that whenever you’re trying to have a serious talk with your mama, she goes like “before you say what you’re about to say, I just wanted to let you know that there’s no one else I’d rather be with than you. My life was shit before I met you *sob sob*...yada yada yada blah blah fishcake... and if you were ever to break up with me *sob sob* I think I’d go into depression, I’d commit suicide...ok so what did you want to say sweetie?” WTF?! If a woman “opens up her heart” to you like this when you’re trying to ditch her, surely, utaweza kweli?

I just don’t have it in me to be that harsh on a mama even though that’s the only way out. Breaking hearts isn’t one of my hobbies. I’d rather she leaves me and saves me the trouble. I need some mad ass exit strategy! Aco & Kenyanchick better get cracking!

A.O.B (as usual)

I need to rid myself of this nasty habit. I know it’s not something to be proud of, in fact it’s downright disgusting and defenitely not something I should be showing off. I’m working on it though. I’ve only had 1 cigarette per day for the past 8 days which for me is an achievement. So enjoy the humour, not the idea behind it.

that's the heap of empty packs that was once neatly arranged in my desk drawer

52 packs to be precise. Count them yourself! Shouldn't be giving them free advertising though...

coz this is how your life goes once you're hooked...

this jamaa has time, eh?

and artistic skill...

and so is everyone else who's addicted to nicotine.

Of Bathtubs and Jualas

2006-11-07T16:14:00.000+03:00

I finally moved into my new digz last Sunday. Boy, the excitement… which died as soon as my bank account dried up after buying all the necessary stuff for the digz. Fridge, microwave, hotplate, pasi, kettle, tupperware, curtains, cutlery, crockery, new locks (I have no idea who has copies of the keys and I don’t want to take risks) carpet cleaning, electrical repairs, new base for the bed, a desk for my PC, and food. Total cost= +/- R3000. Shit, I’m broke!

Now my main beef is with the bathtub. Aki that thing is a joke! It’s barely a metre in length, how am I supposed to fit my 6 foot frame into it? Kwani I’m a 4 year old toi bathing in a basin? I remember the days when I used to poke fun at the former occupant asking him how he used to bath in it. Reply: “mazee inabidi nipige U-turn ndio nitoshee kwa bafu!” how I laughed. Little did I know that I’d have to discover that same U-turn tactic myself! (figure it out for yourself!) I won’t even start with the taps! Bila showerhead...anyway you assess it for yourself!

that’s my suitcase which is about 70cm in length.

A couple of days before I moved out of my former digz, I was doing some shopping at the supermarket and my housemate called and asked me to pick up some condoms for him. Now, I haven’t bought condoms in a very, very long time and I’d forgotten just how embarrassing it can be sometimes, especially if you’re buying them at a supermarket. In Nairobi, I avoid buying condoms at supermarkets after a couple of embarrassing episodes where I ran into people I’d rather not when buying condoms. (girlfriend's mother!!!!) So I buy mine, in bulk, from small pharmacies in town. I pop in quick, throw the money on the counter, point to the Durex 12 packs, show the two finger sign, have them wrapped in a black paperbag and off I go in less than two minutes!

Back to the supermarket, I couldn’t find the isle with the condoms! They’re usually stacked next to the till, but I guess they were moved elsewhere. So I asked an assistant where I could find them. “BRA, YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IKONDOM?” Huku I’m like “shhhhhh. Must you let the whole world know?” He points to the row where I’m to search. I walk down the isle right up to the shelf where the condoms are supposed to be but alas! There are none! Bright Archer walks up to the nearest assistant (a woman) and asks where the condoms are. She turns to a male assistant who’s at the far end of the isle and shouts in xhosa “Where can this young man find condoms?” (These xhosa peeps love to shout! You can find two ladies comfortably “having a conversation” from opposite sides of the street!) Imagine my embarrassment when all eyes from other shoppers turned in my direction. The male assistant shouts to me “Bra, turn right again then you will see the condoms in many colours!” I turn and follow his instructions and I got to the condoms shelf, only to find one bloody pack of TRUST CONDOMS of all things! I wouldn't even let a paki use those things! I sigh in disappointment and proceed to the till to pay for my stuff. At the till, the lady (shouts) asks “you’re the one looking for condoms? Did you find them?” All eyes turn in my direction again, accompanied by giggles. I told her that I didn’t find the ones I was looking for, and could she kill that topic and swipe my stuff quickly.

Having not found the condoms that my pal wanted, I popped into the pharmacy next to the supermarket. Then guess who walks in to find me standing there with three different brands of condoms in my hands. My lecturer. A whole professor. Our eyes met, his glanced down to my hands, then back up to meet the confused expression on my face. He taps me on the shoulder and whispers into my ear “they’re all the same, son. Just pick one. You won’t feel the difference!” Then he winked and walked away.

Upon getting home, my pal couldn’t understand why I threw the condoms right in his face. If only he knew the trouble that I had to go through to get him those condoms!.

So how do you buy your condoms?

A.O.B

I’m so out of touch with the music scene in Kenya. Aki I’m so behind that it’s painful. I got some music videos the other day. Just had to comment on them:

1. Deux Vultures - Adhiambo

To say that these guys have zero lyrical creativity would be a compliment. They are pathetic! “Nimetoka Kisumu/ kama huipendi basi meza sumu” what the hell? Great instrumental, funny song, nice video, pathetic lyrics! I met these two fellas at a shop in Hilton Arcade last December hawking copies of their latest album. They walked up to me as I was checking out the Sema album, ati “maze si u-buy album yetu. Iko na ma track poa sana. Achana na hao watoi” I looked at them and laughed! Ati I buy your cd to listen to Kinyaunyau? Are you nuts?

2. Nameless – Sinzia

Nameless is a pervert. Straight up. But the mamaz in the video. Damn!

3. Nikki & one of those Klepto boys

Who cares about the track…the chic got THIGHS!! Walalala… I remember the Lost Boyz concert at KICC back in 97. I was a little kid then and Nikki was one of the curtain raisers with “wacha nikupe mapenzi tele” and she had on this scandalous miniskirt. After she was done, the MCee Jimmy Gathu did the necessary intros and asked if anyone has any questions for her. My bro, my pals and myself stood on our chairs and yelled out in unison (with our little voices) “what colour is your aaaandaaaaweaaaaar? To our surprise, some of the older patrons joined in! Blush blush Sheila. Call her what you wanna call her, gold digger, whatever else. But woman you were blessed! Adequately! Si you sambaza some of those goodies this way? If only I was old, white and rich!

CHELSEA HOLD BARCELONA AT CAMP NOU!!

2006-11-01T00:51:00.001+03:00

As usual, I thought I should be the first to break the news. I'm sad
that my 2nd favourite (ex) Chelsea player Gudjohnsen scored against
us. Just when I was starting to (finally!) like Drogba, he decides to
dive all over the pitch. But Lampard proved why he's my number one
Chelsea player. That goal was fantabulous! Goal of the tournament
bana!

I need my own space!!

2006-10-26T17:26:00.000+03:00

I’m moving out solo this weekend! Yaaaaaaay! I can’t wait! And this move is so long overdue and I’m glad that it has finally worked out coz there’s only one building that I wanted to move into and a flat finally became vacant. I’m tired of having people all up in my business, of being disrespected, of not being listened to. I’m tired of having to tolerate other people’s unhygienic habits. I’m tired of my lazy ass landlord making false promises to renovate my flat. That’s the same song he came singing last week, “if you guys renew your leases for next year, I’ll make sure that everything will be in order by the time you get back in February” Yeah right! That’s what you said last year and we were foolish enough to take you up on your promise.

I’m tired of not having any privacy to live my life the way that I want to. I’m tired of leaving my takeaway in the fridge only to find that it has been devoured the next morning. I’m tired of having to share a toilet with 3 other people. I’m tired of not being able to have a peaceful siesta without idiots banging at my door every five minutes to borrow this that or the other. And I’m especially tired of KENYANS poking their noses where they ought not to, just to have something to gossip about at the next baraza at the “Kenya High Commission” (a fountain outside the library where Kenyans congregate). Last year I was having a clande with a chic (sikujua alikuwa ni bibi ya wenyewe! Really, I didn’t!) and some time later it went public and I got into a lot of shit! The dude’s the size of Batista! Lakini niliponea chupuchupu after a lot of diplomacy.

Any time there’s drama in this city, best believe that there’s a Kenyan or two involved to “tia chumvi” into the mix. I’m sure you know what I mean. I love my country and my people, but I hate some of our habits.

But the main reason why I’m moving out is coz of one of my housemates. We had a serious altercation earlier in the year, sometime in April. Even though that’s behind us now, a lot of stuff has happened since then and the beef has been hanging over us like a dark cloud. But that’s a story for another day. The only reason why I didn’t move out then is coz I couldn’t find a bachelor flat then, and I was tied down by my lease.

The flat is so run down, it’s even been nicknamed Prison Break! Complete with Scofield, Tancredi, John Abruzzi & C-Note. (A free autograph to whoever can guess correctly which inmate I was!) It has been dissed so much that no one wants to move here next year. Probably that’s why the landlord wants us to renew our leases. Coz he can’t find anyone desperate enough to want to have themselves incarcerated here.

So what am I going to miss most? I’m definitely going to miss my housemate Q, a dude I’ve lived with for two and a half years. Q has changed the way I think. He always has a solution to any one of my myriad of problems. Everything is either black or white. He taught me to simplify issues to their simplest form then deal with them. And he’s one of the funniest dudes that I’ve ever met, plus he has this ability to inspire guys to pull off some random plans like walking to the hanye at 2am.

I am definitely going to miss my room. It’s huge! It has lots of storage space and the best part is that it has a balcony facing the beach and the sun rises right into my eyes every morning! I usually don’t draw my curtains coz the sun is my alarm clock. Sometimes I stand at the balcony with a mug of coffee just to watch the sunrise. It.is.beautiful yaani words can’t even begin to describe it. You just have to see this for yourself.

sunrise with little fishing boats at the shore

I have enjoyed the better part of the last two years and the interesting relationships that we formed as housemates and the late night madness sessions. But I’m a big boy now, I’m entering a new phase of self discovery and this can only be achieved if I move out solo.

My new digz is a bachelor flat just a stone’s throw away from my current place but it’s on the side facing away from the beach. No more sunrises for me. My new bedroom isn’t as big as my current one, but I’ll finally have my own kitchen and fridge, my own toilet where I can stack all my magazines to read as I drop bombs over Baghdad every morning. I’ll have my own bathroom and bathtub (I hate bathtubs-I’d rather have a shower instead. But I can’t have everything!) It’s a secure building with surveillance cameras on every floor, a laundry room in the basement, underground parking which I can rent out since I don’t have a car. It comes with DSTV, tena that fancy one where you can pause stuff and resume from where you left off (I’ll have to buy a TV though-how do you supply DSTV bila a TV?) I have the option of DSTV or wireless internet. I can’t afford both, but right now I’m leaning more towards wireless internet.

But the best part of it is that…THERE ARE NO OTHER KENYANS IN THE WHOLE BUILDING!!! Thank the lord.

Just three more days and I’ll be outta here!

A.O.B

I'm trying to upload a new template onto my blog. So what I did is this. I saved my curremt template just in case, then I went to Edit template and deleted the HTML for the old template and copy pasted the HTML for the new one. But that didn't work and I got this warning message instead:

"We were unable to preview your template. Please correct the error below, and submit your template again. Your template could not be parsed as it is not well-formed. Please make sure all XML elements are closed properly. XML error message: The content of elements must consist of well-formed character data or markup."

All this maneno of HTML and XML is not clicking so if anyone knows how I can go about it, please email me on archer.quest@gmail.com and help me out!

Young Kenyans just don't read!!

2006-10-19T19:39:00.000+03:00

Really, we don’t. We are a bunch of lazy ignorant young people. Am I wrong?Most of us read only what we are required to (text books) but how often do we read other books to expand our knowledge? How often do we utilize the resources at our disposal to further our knowledge of what is going on in the world around us? We have libraries with thousands of books. We have the internet where tons of vital information can be found at the click of a button. But how often do we use the internet productively? What are the chances that you’ll find a 21 year old soaking up an intelligent publication on a Saturday afternoon? More often than not, we the young generation would at that time, be in a pub somewhere watching premier league (I know I would!), or simply lazing around doing nothing of significance. And when we do read something, it would most probably be a trashy tabloid, crap magazines like Men’s Health or Cosmopolitan, OPRAH (!!!) or fairytale romance novels. How often do we engage each other in intelligent debate?

We are an IGNORANT generation. We fill our minds with such useless information as which rapper feuded with who (I watched “Beef 3” the other day, ati Nelly & Chingy feuded over who was the originator of the word “Dirrty”! Seriously, what the fuck is this? See why I don’t listen to hip hop?), what brand of ngotha David Beckham wears, and lots of useless celebrity gossip. If someone can tell you, in detail, the history of the East Coast vs West Coast beef in the ‘90s, but doesn’t know that Chad is a country in Africa… All that space could have been used to store more useful information.

You can imagine my embarrassment when a media student asked me to recommend a few good books by acclaimed Kenyan writers. Er….. Name three books by Ngugi wa Thiong’o. Ok I knew a few. But that’s when it hit me that I do need to read more. A lot more. A whole library more! It’s embarrassing when guys from other countries know more about Kenyan authors than you do. Coz what’s your excuse? It was more embarrassing when I did a search on the library database and found that they have copies of all of Ngugi’s books. (as well as Moi’s The Making of an African Statesman, which I’m currently reading…you could almost think Uncle Dan is a living saint!) I’ve made it my mission to read them all, as well as other books by top African writers.

So what I want to do right now is this. There are a lot of people out there who’ve read quite a lot. I want you guys to recommend to me books, especially by African writers, and other intelligent publications that I should get my hands on. I feel like I’m wasting away coz I know far much less than I should at my age.

(It would be interesting to know what kind of books the likes of M and Potash dig into in their free time.)

Listening to:

1. Mattafix: Everyone around you
2. Matisyahu: Jerusalem

I read all the hype about Matisyahu on some KBW blogs about 2 months ago, got the bootleg album on my PC and threw in Mattafix as well. Now I can't stop playing both! Too deadly!

Happy Kenyatta day people! Kesho it's the full Harambee Stars kit plus kikoi na akala! (for me that is!)

CHELSEA PUNISH BARCELONA AT STAMFORD BRIDGE!

2006-10-18T23:34:00.000+03:00

I thought I should be the first to break the news!

Fire drills and pagets

2006-10-13T17:34:00.000+03:00

Exams are coming up in a few weeks time, and now suddenly everyone’s become focussed with their studies. Unlike earlier in the semester, nowadays the library gets packed throughout the day that it’s almost impossible to find an empty space to study.

I was in the library yesterday afternoon, and they decided to carry out a fire drill to test the preparedness of students in case a fire was to break out. The silence was abruptly interrupted by the ear piercing shrieks of the fire alarm, but what happened after that is what surprised me. While I was hurrying to get my stuff and sprint out of the library, most of the other students just sat there with “WTF?!” expressions on their faces! Someone even yelled “turn that damn thing off! I’ve got a test in two hours!” The fire alarm was on for about ten minutes, but still, very few guys moved from their seats.

Ok this is a library i.e. BOOKS. Fuel! Tonnes of fuel just waiting for a spark to ignite it. I figured that if a fire was to break out in the library, we’d see or smell something burning, right? Only then would we hurry to get out of the building. That’s why no one budged, coz there was no smoke, no fire and no smell of anything burning. But this is a three storey building with only one entrance and exit, and I was on the top floor. What if a fire had broken out in the basement? We would definitely not know about it until it was too late.

Anyway, sometimes it’s best not to apply too much logic to such situations coz you and your logic will burn to death, and then you’ll look very stupid coz there was absolutely no reason for you to still be in a burning building if you heard the fire alarm! Get it?

I got an email from a former high school classmate that I haven’t seen or heard from in ages. We were dorm-mates for four years, but after high school, we lost touch (as everyone else did) but what got me thinking is that we have absolutely nothing to talk about. We never really did connect while in school despite the fact that we were dorm mates and classmates as well. How do you live with someone for four years, share the same bench in the dining hall, stand in the same queue during morning parade, share the same bench in the chapel, and not know who they really are? How is this possible? If we were to meet a few years later, where would the conversation start from?

However, there are a few funny incidents that I remember about this fellow. Cheruiyot is from the heart of Keiyo and has the perfect Kale accent to match. During the very first weekend in form one, when we were still a bunch of confused rabbles, Cheruiyot had dressed up in his best attire and the rest of us were curious as to where he was going. Did he have a date with a girl from the neighbouring girls’ school so soon? So we asked him, and the conversation went a little like this:

Us: Kwani unaenda wapi?
Cheruiyot: I’m going to the town.
Us: Do you even know where it is? We’ve only been here for a week.
Cheruiyot: Don’t worry, I cannot get lost.
Us: What are you going to do in town?
Cheruiyot: I’m going to buy a paget for my sister.
Us: A what?
Cheruiyot: A paget.
Us: Oh…ok. A packet of what?
Cheruiyot: Not a paget, A paget!
Us: Yes, we know, but you’re going to buy a packet of what?
Cheruiyot: Not a paget! A PAGET! Yaani ndoo!
Us: Oh…a bucket! *hysterical laughter* Yaani you’ve come all the way from Keiyo and the first thing you can think about buying for your sister is a bucket? Kwani there are no buckets in Keiyo? Kuwa serious!

Yes we were form ones, we were allowed to make fun at such silly stuff.

Ok back to the topic. Is it possible to know someone but not really know them? What does that say about you as a person?

I quit! (Part 2): Some petty bullshit

2006-10-10T15:07:00.000+03:00

I live in a mid sized city where there are not many part-time job opportunities available for students. The only jobs that pay well are waiters’ jobs at restaurants. Getting one isn’t easy especially if you have no previous work experience. So when I was lucky to land myself a job at a classy restaurant (the type where the average meal costs somewhere close to my monthly groceries budget) I took it! I didn’t really need the job, but such opportunities don’t come around very often.

Even before I started working at the joint, I’d heard quite a few negative stories from students who used to work there but quit. “The manager’s an arrogant asshole with PMS 24/7, he doesn’t protect employees from rude/abusive customers, and the place is just too strict.” I ignored these stories coz I was driven by greed to apply for a job there. Seriously, the ad said between R300-R500 a night (roughly Ksh 3000-Ksh 5000) tell me, who would say no to that? That is a lot of money to a student! In my head I’d already seen how I’m going to pay off my substantial gym debt in one week (I haven’t been there in almost a year [to flex what? These ribs?] but I’m tied down by a contract. Yes I know I’m stupid, no need to remind me!) upgrade my wardrobe the next week, buy an iPod the next, then save up for a holiday in Cape Town and a PlayStation 3 after that.

During the summer holiday (November to February) lots of tourists flock into the city and everyone knows that they SPEND a lot of money, so waiters can make up to R800 a night! I even decided to stay here instead of going home to bum all week at jobless corner waiting for the weekend to hustle the folks for cash to hanye.

The one week of training isn’t easy. Basically a trainee starts off in the kitchen where you’re at the disposal of the head cook. If she decides that utasugua vyombo, peel potatoes, sweep and mop the floor, make salads and garnishes, you’ll do just that. And I did! Then you proceed to the grill section where you peel more potatoes, learn about all the steaks and how they’re prepared, what they’re served with etc. After that you’re assigned to shadow the waiters, serving customers, lighting candles, emptying ashtrays, setting up tables, carrying away plates after the customers are through. Then you proceed to shadow one waiter and learn everything about taking orders, placing orders in the kitchen and the grill section, serving the meals and using the computer to place orders and prepare the bill. After you’re done with all that, you sit a test on everything you’ve learnt during training.

I went through the whole training period wondering when I’d start making money! I only worked for a day coz for the last two and a half weeks all the shifts were full, I didn’t even make the stand-by list.

But there was lots of drama behind the scenes. We had two managers (and, of course, the token black junior manager) Manager A is a straight up category 1 asshole. He never has anything good to say to anyone. Manager B is an easy chap. He’ll crack jokes and have a smoke with you before work and catch a pint at the end of the night. But if a waiter screws up during the night, he’ll throw a bitch-fit, and apologize for it at the end of the night. It’s no secret that Manager A and B don’t get along, mainly coz Manager A has some connection with the owners of the restaurant so he feels that there’s nothing that anyone can do to him. That’s why he treats everyone like shit.

Eventually, Manager B quit and left for Cape Town, and then we were stuck with the asshole. Most of the waiters said there’s no way they’d work for him so they quit and applied for jobs elsewhere.

A classmate of mine who also works at the restaurant told me on Friday that there was a severe shortage of waiters at the restaurant and that I should go over and put my name down for as many shifts as I can. Huku my mind is thinking Ka-ching!! Jackpot! $$$$$$$! So I did just that.

When I got there, there were only four or so waiters for 40+ tables and guys really looked like they could do with some help. I asked the head waiter if he could put my name down for the evening shift and for more shifts through the weekend as well, but he said that I had to speak to the manager. I asked where he was and he told me that he was in the kitchen. But I was in casual wear and I asked if it was ok for me to go into the kitchen dressed like that and he was like “yeah bru, it’s cool. Just go in and speak to him.”

At the kitchen the head cook greeted me and asked me to wait for a sec while she calls the manager. I asked her if I should wait outside coz I was in casual wear but her reply was “oh don’t be silly, Archer. Wait right there and I’ll call him for you.”

A few minutes later the manager came out and the expression on his face indicated that things were not going to be good. “What the f*** are you doing in my kitchen? Get the f*** out!” I tried to speak to him but he ordered me out, so I decided to wait for him by the front desk. I thought he was being his “normal” shit-faced self so I didn’t take his language too seriously.

He showed up almost half an hour later, clearly disgusted at my presence. “You’re still here? What the f*** do you want?” Before I could speak he blasted me for being rude and disrespectful by walking into his kitchen as if it was my own, and for talking back to him.

“You think that you can just walk into my kitchen to ask for a job? Who do you think you are?” I tried to explain to him that I DID work there but he shut me up with “that’s the problem with you foolish Zimbabweans and your lousy manners. Your sub-standard education clearly doesn’t equip you with common sense and courtesy.”

I didn’t bother t tell him that I’m a Kenyan and not a Zimbabwean, coz it wouldn’t have made a difference to him. We’re all silly half educated immigrants anyway, right?

I apologized if my actions came out as being disrespectful to him as that was not my intention. I would not have gone into the kitchen in casual wear if I hadn’t been given the green light by the head waiter and the head cook, coz it’s rather obvious that that’s a no no. But he wouldn’t listen.

“Get the hell out of my restaurant and only come back after you’ve learnt some manners. Get out!” Huku he’s pointing to the wide open door.

I stood there and gave him a couple of minutes to calm down before attempting to speak to him again. Actually I was like “breathe in, breathe out. Wuuuusaaaa. Tulia daddy.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? GET the f*** out of my restaurant! Get out! I have no business to discuss with idiots like you!”

Haiiiiya, he’s serious? Kwani who the hell does this mbuzi think he’s talking to?

“Actually, you know what, you arrogant bastard? Go fuck yourself! I quit!” and I walked out.

Seriously, what the hell was that about? Yes I know it was wrong for me to enter the kitchen in casual wear, but it’s not as if I sauntered in to have a chat with the coffee girl. (well, she’s pretty, she’s got one hell of a diab and she’s quite flirtatious…!) It’s amazing how petty some people can be! So you can imagine what kind of bitch-fit he’d throw if a waiter accidentally messed up an order or forgot to change an ashtray by the third cigarette butt. He’d give you a thorough dressing down right in front of your colleagues. It’s not hard to see why more than three quarters of my colleagues decided to quit once Manager B left. Even for that kind of money, no one should take this kind of bullshit from anyone coz you’re still selling yourself cheap! What differenciates you from a prostitute?

If you’re running a restaurant with over 40 tables with only four or five waiters since all the rest have quit, then you should realize that something is wrong. Hiring new guys isn’t a solution coz they’ll have to train first which takes time, and the place already has a nasty reputation among students, so no-one is willing to apply for a job there for whatever amount of money. If the kitchen staff are so demoralized but only continue to work for you coz they really need the peanuts that you pay them, then you should realize that something is wrong. (you should see how they prepare customers’ food. It’s shocking! I’ve seen tomato slices fall to the floor and somehow find themselves back onto the plate!!) If another manager quits coz of your arrogance, surely, can’t you see that there’s something terribly wrong?

Someone ought to put this guy in his place. Beat his ass up a bit. (comrade Bomseh si you make a plan?) But why should I care? It’s not my restaurant.

As for me, a friend of mine is hooking me up with another job at a restaurant that’s equally as popular among tourists, and if I get it, then I might decide to stay here and work during the holidays instead of going to Nairobi.

But tolerating these Afrikaners isn’t going to be easy.

I quit!

2006-10-06T21:01:00.001+03:00

I've just quit my job of three weeks. No amount of money on earth can
justify the amount of bullshit and disrespect that one gets from a
bunch of stupid racist Afrikaners. They can all fucking go to hell.

Archer's classic cars wish list!

2006-10-04T16:21:00.000+03:00

Seeing that I missed the Concours d'Elegance for the fourth year running and everyone’s busy rubbing it in, (coz they know just how much of a car fanatic I am), I decided that I’ll have my own Concours up in my blog! So today I’ll do a picture post of the cars that feature on my most wanted list. I’m talking about classic cars, none of these gadget laden machines of today, many of which may never be considered as classic cars 30 years down the line.

I’ve decided that I have to own all (ok lemme be realistic….SOME!) of the cars on this list before I die. After all are safely stored in the glass showroom (with a rotating floor!) in my backyard, then I’ll gladly die a happy man.

1. 1973 Mercedes Benz 600 Pullman

What’s the first thought that comes into your mind when you see this car? Brings back memories of Kenyatta and Moi, right? To me, this car symbolizes power. That’s it. Most African Presidents, European royalty and some of the world’s richest and most powerful personalities had to have one in their garages in the 60’s and 70’s. I came within a few feet of two the former presidential limos (Moi had two identical ones, one navy blue and the other sky blue) at the workshop at DT Dobie three years ago but they’re guarded 24/7 and the cops were not too willing to let me get any closer. I wouldn’t mind one in navy blue.

2. 1964 Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud III

First thought? Queen Elizabeth 2, right? The Silver Cloud has served QE2 from the 1960s until 2003 when it was replaced by a hideous special edition Bentley. I want one in black.

3. 1966 Lincoln Contnental

For me, this has got to be the most interesting car on this list. Almost every person that I can associate with it died in it, whether in the movies or in real life, save for two.

I first saw the Continental in James Bond “Goldfinger” and it was love at first sight. All that chrome, simple design and fluid lines. If you’ve watched the movie, you might remember the scene where Mr. Goldfinger sent his trusted sidekick Oddjob (the short chubby Japanese dude with the lethal bowler hat) to pick up some dude from the airport. The passenger never made it to his destination as Oddjob shot him in the back seat, drove to a demolition yard where the car was crushed and reduced to a cube the size of a tv set, and dropped onto the back of a pickup.

J.F.K. sent a convertible version to Kenyatta upon his inauguration as Kenya’s Prime Minister in 1963. Ironically, it is the same car in which JFK was assassinated in the same year.

The Continental featured in George Clooney’s movie “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind” where some fellas got popped in it. (by the way, that’s one tight movie!)

It also featured in the Matrix, thankfully (for me) no one died this time round.

It makes me wonder why I’d like to associate myself with a car that signifies death. Is it an omen of some kind?

Anyway, me wants one in black. I wouldn’t mind buying it as a shell and building it up from scratch.

4. 1965 Shelby Cobra

You just have to love this car. It’s so damn sexy! Those curves!! Quite fast and very powerful (over 420 BHP) as well. I had the pleasure of viewing one at a showroom in Jo'burg two years ago. Just as we were leaving, some guy decided to take it for a spin and he stopped at the traffic lights just beside our modest Toyota Tazz (a.k.a Conquest) When the lights turned to green, the Cobra’s brutal engine came to life and voop! It was gone! I want one in sky blue or black with twin white racing stripes from the hood to the rear.

5. 1967 Shelby Mustang GT500

Eleanor in Gone in 60 Seconds. Need I say more?

6. 1965 Pontiac GTO

They call it the first true American muscle car. Again, need I sayeth more?

A.O.B

I love anything and everything BMW, but lately this Chris Bangle character has given beamer enthusiasts several reasons to hate him. The 7 series front end styling was very controversial (and the mid-life facelift didn’t help much), so was the Z4 (I love this one!) the 6 series (ugly rear and dashboard) and the incredibly ugly X3. And having seen spy pics of the next generation X5, I couldn't loathe him any less.

There was an online petition to sack him as the head of design at BMW, but that got nowhere since he’s actually winning awards for his recent designs.

But if recent spy pics of the 2009 E-Class are anything to go by, BMW will be in serious problems! (even though all the new shindez all look alike) Check this out!

So what d'you think? feel free to add your own classic cars to the list.

I got a question...

2006-09-21T14:49:00.000+03:00

Ok mimi iko na swali. (yes I know it’s mimi nina swali…I think I got an A- in Swa but do I say?) We all know how complex relationships (or CFAs) can be. These are just a few of the situations that we find ourselves in and I’d like to know what y’all would do if faced with such.

Some might seem rather obvious coz of the unspoken codes, rules and levels of loyalty and expectation that exist between guys and chics respectively. E.g. I’d like to believe that guys will always cover each others asses whereas chics will always look out for their girlfriends. I hope I’m making some sense?

For the purposes of these questions, let’s define a few words first.

a) Your boy/girl: your very tight pal, the one you’d take a bullet for any day.
b) Your pal: just a guy/chic that you happen to know.

For the dudes:

1. Would you hook up with your boy’s/pal’s ex? Does it make any difference if your boy/pal has already moved on with someone else, or if this is happening a long time after they broke up? Would you be pissed off if your boy/pal hooked up with your ex, and why?

2. Your boy’s chic is dogging on him, both she and the other dude know that you know. Would you sell them out? If so, how would you go about it? Straight up or under pundez? If somehow he finds out about it and that you knew, what next?

3. Your pal is dogging on his chic on the regular, and she happens to be a very close friend of yours. Would you sell him out? If so, how?

For the ladies:

1. Would you hook up with your girl’s ex? Same as Q1 for the guys above.

2. If you meet a guy and you realise right from the word go that he’s feeling you, but he doesn’t act on it, does that eventually influence how you will feel about him when he gets the guts to step up to you?

2. Your pal is dogging on her man on the regular, and he happens to be a very good friend of yours. Would you sell her out? And if so, how would you go about it?

For everyone:

If your partner was dogging on you and your boy/girl knew about it but didn’t say a word to you for the entire duration that this was going down, how would you react?

This should be interesting!

A.O.B

Archer got a job last Thursday at a fancy restaurant, I've never done an honest day's work in my life so this should be interesting for me. I'll do a whole post on that later. I don't really need the job but the pay is good and I've realized that iPods and Playstation 3s don't grow on trees! (check out those rhyming skillz!)

Mentalacrobatics gets punk'd!!

2006-09-21T14:33:00.000+03:00

I read Mental’s post the other Saturday about him and the other KBW members attending the indaba in Grahamstown and I thought I should hola since it’s just an hour’s drive from where I’m at, so I emailed him to try and organize a ka-mini KBW meet up. So we agreed to meet on Saturday afternoon at Port Elizabeth airport before his return flight to Jo’burg. Come Saturday morning, I called bwana Mental to confirm our meeting but only got his voicemail “hi this is Daudi, I’m not here right now so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” First I was struck by the twang, but I won’t comment on that right now. When he finally answered my call, I decided to pull a fast one on him.

Mental: Hello?
Archer: Good morning sir, this is Sibusiso from the front desk. Is this Mr. Mentalgymnastics?
Mental: (laughter) no actually it’s Mentalacrobatics, but please call me Daudi. What can I do for you?
Archer: Sir, my records indicate that you ordered for two cases of Johnny Walker blue label last night…
Mental: huh?
Archer: …and that you’re yet to make payment for them.
Mental: No no no hold up mate, you must have me confused for someone else.
Archer: But the order is in your name sir.
Mental: Anybody could have used my name.
Archer: But sir, they were delivered to your room.
Mental: What the….!? I didn’t order any drinks last night! I wasn’t even here!
Archer: Well my records indicate that you did!
Mental: That’s absolute bollocks!
Archer: Sir, I’m requesting you to make payment for them before you check out.
Mental: BUT I DIDN’T ORDER ANY BLOODY JOHNNY WALKER!
Archer: Well, sir, according to my records…
Mental: @#$% your records! I’m not paying for them and that’s that.
Archer: You owe us R6400 for both.
Mental: WHAT? Listen here you nitwit, I didn’t order any liquor and I’m definitely not paying for them!
Archer: You don’t have a choice Mr Mentalgymnastics.
Mental: IT’S M.E.N.T.A.L.A.C.R.O.B.A.T.I.C.S you little $#!+!!
Archer: Whatever. If you can’t make the payment then I’m afraid we’ll have to send you to the kitchen. They could do with some help.
Mental: (clearly getting very agitated) ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME? Yenyewe ou-pum-bah-voo lazimaah utaacha! Ati mimi nichongey veeyahzee? You must be out of your goddamn mind!

Huku I’m trying so hard to compose myself trying not to burst into laughter coz at this rate Mental was just about to unleash some serious salvos in luhya!

Archer: Sorry I don’t understand Arabic.
Mental: It’s not Arabic you ignorant @#$%!! It’s Swahili!
Archer: Whatever. So are you paying or not?
Mental: I’M CERTAINLY NOT!! (Then he slammed the phone, forgetting it was his cellphone!)

I called him back two minutes later (after a good laugh!) to own up for the prank and this is what I got:

Mental: Listen here Seey-bou-see-saw, I didn’t order any bloody Johnny Walkers, I don’t give a rat’s bollocks about your bloody records! I’m not paying and I’m not paying! Yaani, SILIPI ATA NDEW-REW-REW! (ndururu!!!! LOL!)
Archer: Relax man it’s Archer!
Mental: @*#&$*%&@^@*%&^$&@*#*%&@$%*^%(@$*@&^$*!&$^$&@$%&#%^@$%*#%_!%(#$%&#^%*^&**#%*#**$$***%#@$!$#%$@#%#@$^$@^%@%^$%^^%&&*$&*$*%*#&*@$@$&@$!!!!!! WEWE!! If I catch you! If I catch you….!!!!
Archer: *Rolling on the floor laughing my black ass off!*

I would have loved to see the expression on his face!

Obviously Mental will deny that the events unfolded in this here manner but I assure you that this is what happened.

Anyway, due to some messed up travel plans by the organizers of the indaba, we were not able to link up at the airport as previously planned. I wanted to see for myself if what they say about Mental’s dressing taste (or lack of) is true. Coz we’ve seen pink shirts, Kanu ties… I wonder what else he’s got up in his closet! Gold sandaks with gitter?

A.O.B:
My undercover status lately can be attributed to the fact that ever since guys started changing over to Blogger Beta, I've been unable to post comments on Blogger Beta or Wordpress blogs from my cellphone as I usually do. So I also switched over to Blogger Beta but there's still no difference! I can't even post comments to my own blog! So if anyone out there knows vot I do, hola asap. I use Opera Mini v2.0 to browse the net on my cellphone (Nokia 6600 V8 kompressor)

A taste of your own medicine b*tch!

2006-09-11T14:57:00.001+03:00

I never thought I’d write about this incident in my blog but who cares!

A couple of years ago I had a major crush on a chic in my class. She was one gorgeous thang, absolutely flawless from head to toe. The only problem is that she never did smile. Ever. She oozed coldness every single day of the week. But the one day that she did smile, to me it was as if the sun had come out on a cloudy winter’s day and warmed me to the bone. I know that sounds lame but that’s exactly how I felt at the time. She never spoke to anyone either. She had a very intimidating “sura ya kazi” expression on her face 24/7. She sat by herself during lectures and cut the image of a very focused chic.

A pal of mine knew her and obviously I asked him for the d-low on her. The guy turned to me and said “that woman? Forget! She’s the coldest, rudest and most arrogant bitch you will ever meet in your life!” But I was up for a challenge, coz at the time I was part of this whole clique that always managed to put me down for one reason or the other, so I had to do something to prove myself, and I thought that I’d score some points by winning the heart of this emotionless chic who every guy in the clique wished.

Encouraged by a pal of mine (who actually put the silly idea in my mind in the first place-let’s call him TM) I decided to follow her around campus and know her kawaida routine with a view to arranging for one or three coincidental meetings. In case you’re thinking to yourself “er…please define stalking” Yes I admit! I stalked her! But I prefer to call it “strategical surveillance.” The idea wasn’t particularly bright coz right now I can’t help laughing at myself for the shit I did. We called it “Operation SMP”, SMP being an acronym for Sexy Ms. Pedestal. That name came from the fact that TM thought that I’d placed her on a pedestal so high that I’d have licked the soles of her feet had she asked me to. Well it was somewhat true, I adored her almost to the point of obsession.

Anyway I got to know what she does and where she goes in between lectures. Her routine on Wednesdays was as follows:

0830hrs: attend statistics tutorial session
0930hrs: emerge from venue, walk to cafeteria
0935hrs: purchase chelsea bun and coffee
0950hrs: walk to computer lab to do whatever it is that people do on the internet
1035hrs: leave computer lab and walk to venue of next lecture.

So the next Wednesday, after having a good shave and pulling out one of those Saturday night special shirts (the shirt was orange, but it was South Pole and it cost me a fortune!) and splashing on some aftershave and cologne, I proceeded to lay an ambush on SMP with TM watching from close by. I picked a bench that lay along SMP’s usual route from the cafeteria to the computer labs.

I checked my watch, 0938hrs. Any time now. Ok here she comes. Oh shit, what am I going to say? My mind went totally blank as the gap between us closed with every successive step that she took. Something told me to ask her the time. There have been dumber ways to strike up a conversation but I guess this will do. But I already have a watch! So I hurriedly took it off and shoved it into my pocket. Haiya, here goes nothing.

Archer: Er… excuse me?
SMP: (Turns slowly in my direction in a scene reminiscent of a cartoon episode where you accidentally woke up Brutus the neighbour’s Doberman) WHAT??!
Archer: I was wondering if….
SMP: If WHAAAAAT?!
Archer: If you could…
SMP: If I could WHAAAAAAAAAAT??!
Archer: Er…
SMP: I don’t have all day! What do you want?
Archer: (thinking to myself “waaa! huku kumeumana!) I think you’re probably having a bad day. I didn’t mean to disturb you.
SMP: Well you did!!

And with that she clicked loudly and walked on.

Now picture the sight of this guy reduced to the size of a little pebble on the side of the dusty path with TM laughing his head off! Actually he’s never stopped making fun of me over that incident two years down the line.

Fast forward to May 2006. It’s a Friday night, I’m at a café having a few beers with some friends. Guess who walks in with her pals and occupies the table right next to ours. It’s SMP! Well I hadn’t seen her in quite a while. Almost a year actually. And things have changed. She’s fat! Gone are the curvy hips that would glue many a guy’s eyes with every swing and sway. Now they’ve been replaced with Michelins so thick you’d think she stuck floaters to herself. To make matters worse she had an un-coordinated outfit with so many colours that would make Mueni frown in envy. On the plus side, she was still very pretty with the make up perfectly bringing out every element of her beauty.

Coincidentally I was with TM that night and when he spotted her, he instantly burst into laughter and despite my pleas for him to shut up, he proceeded to tell the story of my failed attempt to woo SMP two years ago, much to my embarrassment. Thanks man, you’re a true pal.

Back to SMP, she pulled out a cigarette from her handbag and searched around for a lighter. There was none at her table, so she went over to the counter to ask the barman for one. TM throws me a lighter and goes like “si you go redeem yourself?” I figured that I had nothing more to lose since my ego had been dented severely so I might as well take up the challenge.

I walked over to SMP and offered to light up her cigarette. She lit up and took a deep puff. She says “I remember your face. I think we’ve met somewhere before?” to which I replied “our paths may have crossed at some time.” She was craving for a slice of black forest so I took that as a cue to make myself comfy on the stool next to hers, and I offered to buy her the cake. It’s not hard to see where the 20 kilos came from!

We had a very long chat over a couple of flaming lamborghinis and a few shots of tequila and we found ourselves flirting, to the point where SMP confessed that she hadn’t had some in a while, and seeing that the night was coming to an end, we should at least kill it on a high note! She asked me if my place was cool since her room-mate was asleep and I agreed. So we finished off our drinks and left the café together under looks of approval from TM and company.

We took a cab back to my apartment and things quickly got really heavy. Just at the point where she was begging for it, I thought to myself “aw come on man, you’re such a loser! Is a shag that you’ve wished for over two years really worth it? I think not!”

So I got out of bed and told her “I don’t think I’m up for this right now. I’m just not feeling you at all. Please get your stuff and leave. Now!”

The expression on her face was priceless! I bet she was thinking “WHAAAAAAAT?!!” Have that! A taste of your own medicine. Now that you’ve become fat and undesirable is when you know how to be nice to people?

That night I slept feeling quite content with myself for redeeming my pride although another part of my anatomy would gladly have smacked me senseless if it could! Sorry son, I know you don't discriminate but I've never let you down in the past, have I?

A taste of your own medicine b*tch!

2006-09-11T14:57:00.000+03:00

Msapere to the bone!

2006-09-07T16:47:00.000+03:00

I just got this in my e-mail and I couldn't resist the temptation to share it! Enjoy!

It’s Friday night and four ladies: Akinyi, Sanaipei, Mwikali and Wambui go for a Ladies Night out.

Mwikali wanted to impress the rest of the girls so she pulled out a 100 bob note. When the male dancer came over to them, Mwikali licked the note and stuck it to his butt cheek!

Not to be outdone, Sanaipei pulled out a 200 note. She called the guy back, licked the note, and stuck it to his other butt cheek.

In another attempt to impress the rest of the girls, Akinyi pulled out a 500 bob note, called the guy over and licked the note.

Wambui was worried about the way things are going, but fortunately, Akinyi just stuck it to one of his butt cheeks.

Wambui’s relief was short-lived. Seeing the way things were going, the guy gyrated over to her.

Now everyone's attention was focused on Wambui, as the guy was egging
her on to try to top the 500 bob. Wambui's brain was churning as she reached for her wallet......

What could she do????

The Kikuyu in her took over!

She got out her Barclays Bank Visa ATM card, swiped it down the crack of his butt, grabbed the eight hundred bob, and went home!!

Out of court settlement

2006-09-07T14:55:00.000+03:00

On Monday morning I woke up and as usual I got online on my cell phone to read the papers and check my e-mail. Shortly afterwards I clicked on the KBW Aggregator and my eyes were greeted by the very loud heading “Kenyan student becomes a victim of Racist Xenophobia in SA!!” To say that I was in shock will be a gross understatement coz I thought “WHAAT? Another one? OK that’s it! Now we ought to bomb these pigs!” Only after scrolling down did I realize that Alexcia was referring to my unfortunate experience about a month ago.

During the course of the day, my blog received a lot of traffic and I also received several emails, and I know that the post has attracted the attention of a lot of people from all over the world. An American lady in North Carolina even linked to my post on her blog. Read Clarafied Words' post here. I’m grateful that there are people out there who have been outraged enough by this incident to take matters into their own hands, the likes of Gathara who even e-mailed the SA High Commissioner to Kenya, the Kenyan High Commissioner to SA and last but not least, but very interestingly…President Kibaki himself!! In Gathara’s own words, he put his money right where his mouth is! (Read the comments section on my post about the incident)

However, I’m sorry to burst your bubble guys, but I’ve decided not to take legal action or try to follow it up with the cops, for a few reasons, some of which I do not wish to go into in detail for my own reasons. It will take too much of my time and I cannot afford to be distracted from my studies coz I’m at a very critical point at the moment. Secondly, the whole process is just too damn long and complicated.

Therefore I have decided to seek an out of court settlement with the management of the nightclub. I know this decision will upset a lot of people, believe me it was not an easy one for me to make. It’s not that I have been compromised in any way, neither is it because of the money coz I’m not seeking any. I’m seeking three different things from them:

1. A settlement of the medical fees that I incurred as a result of the injuries that I sustained.
2. An official apology from the management as well as from the two nyang’aus involved. (Hopefully they’re literate enough to write up an apology)
3. I will not name this request/demand, but it far outweighs the first two. It is not monetary in nature neither is it solely for my benefit. This is the most important one and if it is not met, then I will consider wasting my time and energy in seeking legal redress. I have put a lot of thought into it and they will have no option but to agree to it if they do not want their establishment’s name dragged through the mud.

So I request you not to take any further individual action on my behalf. Your concern and anger is enough and I appreciate that. I’d like to thank Alexcia, Gathara and Clarafied Words for their efforts in bringing up this issue in their own way and for raising awareness about it.

I’d also like to report that I’ve been off the crutches for almost two weeks now and the numerous bruises that I had have healed, so I’m back to 100%. (Even though one skwembe has stunyad more then the other one!! But it’s all good)

Thank you everyone for your concern and for the comments, the encouragement and for your support. Much appreciated.

Can't August end any faster?

2006-08-30T18:19:00.000+03:00

Boy it’s been one very fuctup August and I will definitely be glad when it gives way to September. I feel as if someone with some very strong witchcraft cast a spell on me this month coz it’s been one misfortune after another. From a nasty breakup with someone I cared a great deal for, to getting assaulted, to falling sick, recovering then falling sick yet again (yaani I’ve lost weight till all my pants are slipping down my ass!) to missing out on a big inter-varsity sports tournament which all my pals went for and enjoyed themselves immensely, to other personal issues. Whoever cast a spell on me better lay low coz one of my distant aunts is a serious believer in this kind of thing and I could get her to unleash a deadlier dose of witchcraft on them! But again she’ll wonder how I found out about all this. Hmm… ok forget that option. I’m not superstitious anyway.

I have a serious dislike for shrinks. I think they are a waste of time and money coz they usually take the most circuitous route to get to the core problem (which you already know) then they ask you what you think the solution is. If I knew the solution I wouldn’t be here talking to you dumbass!! I’d been slipping into a mild depression lately and I found myself at my shrink’s office last week. Very reluctantly if I may add. Actually he called to check up on me and forced me to make an appointment. Now this guy is quite queer. He rides to work on his motorbike wearing a leather jacket, torn jeans and those leather helmets and huge goggles that World War 2 pilots used to wear. He also has an interesting way of driving his point across. Last year, while explaining a point, he got up off his chair and came up close to me, face to face, reeeeally close, as in nose to nose, then he looked me straight in the eye. Huku I’m thinking “er…WTF dude? I’ve been told that I’m above average in the looks department but I don’t swing that way!” then he backs off and says “see what I’m saying? You have no boundaries! You have no personal space! And that’s why blah blah blah yada yada yada...” OK. Point taken.

At the time I was seriously contemplating dropping out of school coz I was stuck in a fuctup course and my folks wouldn’t hear of it, and the guy sez “Its ok to drop out of school. Many people do it. I did! And look at me now! Maybe school just isn’t for you!” Whaat? So this time he asked me when I last got laid. Alaa? Relevance to the situation? “None really. It just helps get stuff out of your head. Get yourself a good shag then come and tell me about it.” Haha! Daddy hapo umeota! Well...there are some cute naïve 18 year olds in my class that I could confuse further but I don’t do kids. It’s a wonder that anyone takes him seriously. I wonder where he got his qualifications anyway. M.I.T? (Mogadishu Institute of Therapy)

It was good to see the reigning champions of England Chelsea FC get back to winning ways on Saturday against Blackburn, after that embarrassing defeat to Middlesbrough last Wednesday. It was even better to see that idiot Didier Drogba stay on his feet for once and play some noteworthy soccer. Those who know me also know that I have no love for this sissy and his stupid hair. I bet that some garage somewhere in West London must be running out of grease. I don’t understand how someone can get hit on the head and fall to the ground while clutching at his ankle in agony (and vice versa!) talk of misplaced nerve endings. We didn’t pay 24 million quid for such amateur theatrics! We already have Robben for that! And he’s doing a splendid job diving around the pitch. There’s even a few blogs and a website for Drogba haters. Does anyone remember The Predator?

Ma hair is shine more bettah dan yo moda's hair! Wuaahahahaahaha!!

Then Chelsea have been drawn in the same group as Barcelona AGAIN! How does this happen three seasons in a row? Why are we second seeds behind Arsenal? Why can’t we for once be drawn against some lesser teams like Lyon as the top seeds, then Panathinaikos, Betis and some other shit team? Why do we have to go through this ordeal again? Me thinks someone rigged the process.

Guys suck when it comes to buying the right gifts for their significant others and that’s a fact. But how can we ever be right when chics point out a million and two different things each day that they think are “lovely”? Whether it’s some belt, skirt, earrings or a pair of shoes in a magazine to an outfit that some other chic is wearing. All this information gets lost somewhere between thoughts of soccer, food, sex and beer until we finally stop taking notice altogether. “Sweety do you think that chile’s dress is nice?” And we quickly reply in the affirmative without even looking up for a second.

So this is what I used to do with my previous girlfriends, I’d make a mental note of anything that she’d mention more than once (that shows that she really wants it), I’d jot it down in my notebook with stars indicating the level of desirability, then I’d go out of my way to buy whatever it is for her birthday or for any other important date.

But why is it that some chics don’t do the same for their boyfriends? Ok I may be wrong, maybe it’s just the clowns that I had for girlfriends who were just too daft to pick up a few obvious hints. For example, I’m a big Boney M fan and someone stole my original cd some time back. I’ve searched all over Nairobi for the Boney M More Gold cd but to no avail. I know I can get it in South Africa but why bother when what I really want is for someone to buy it for me. Anyway, while driving somewhere with my ex last year, some genius at Capital FM decided to play a track from this album, and I was so jazzed that I turned up the volume and sang along. Then I said to her that any woman who would buy me this cd (it’s the search for the cd that matters) I’ll call my relaz in the shagz, tell them that I’ve found “The One” and instruct them to dispatch the cows immediately. If she could not only buy the cd, but also sing “Jimmy” to me with my name in place of Jimmy, not only will the relaz be summoned, but those cows will find themselves on an express overnight pick-up to her old man’s shamba!

But guess what? Even after dropping similar hints to four different chics, they still failed to get the hint!! Airheads kabisa! So the question here is, is it the gift that matters or is it the effort behind getting the gift that counts? Think about it, anyone can walk into a shop and buy an expensive cologne, dress, pair of shoes, watch etc as a gift, but wouldn’t you feel that this person really cared for you if they went well out of their way to search all over for something that you’ve always wanted?

A.O.B

Q. Why do Kikuyu men enjoy watching porn on rewind mode?

A. Coz they get an orgasm watching the prostitute handing back the money!!!

Belated Post, Unfair to Mr Musau & the bullies of Jericho

2006-08-17T18:00:00.000+03:00

(this part should have been posted two weeks ago but I didn’t know how to upload the pics. Now that I do…)

Yesterday’s weather has got to be the worst that I’ve ever experienced in this city in the last few years, by far! Check out this cloud!!

Ni kubaya! And this was at 7:30am!!

I doubt if I’ve ever seen such big, dark, angry and heavily pregnant clouds during my time here. Now the way I’m such a kubaff, after looking out my window and after seeing this very imposing image, I STILL decided to walk my ass to the bus stop in the rain, no umbrella, got to school thoroughly soaked only to find that campus was virtually empty coz all lectures had been cancelled. So why didn’t I stay in bed? You can clearly see gale force winds and floods and you still insist on venturing outside?

Actually the university had announced on a local radio station that all lectures had been cancelled coz staff and students were stranded in all parts of the city due to the floods, but I don’t listen to these 2 bob radio stations coz they speak in xhosa half the time and play kwaito all day long. Anyway, the entire city came to a complete standstill coz of a major power blackout that lasted until close to midnight. Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, was working. ATMs, public phones, airtime vending machines, the lifts (some unfortunate peeps in my building got stuck in a cold dark lift for hours!!) the cell phone network was down, I couldn’t take a hot bath, couldn’t cook or make some hot coffee yet all nearby fast food joints, Nando’s, McDonalds, Debonairs, KFC et al were closed. The liquor store just happened to be open, so my pal and I, having nothing better to do with our time, decided to buy a litre of Chateau V.O. Brandy and Coke...

thank the lawd for cheap liquor in this country!

...and we proceeded to knock ourselves out! (Of course I was on another mission altogether with that liquor! Drowning my sorrows after my recent break up with the wifey) Needless to say, this morning my head felt as if I had pulled a Zidane head butt on an oncoming train and lost. They say that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. So why do we drink ourselves to a stupor knowing a major hangover awaits?

You’d be forgiven for thinking the title of this post was about something serious like some major injustice had been done to a certain Mr. Musau. I have some crazy ass housemates. These peeps crack me up so hard on the daily! Some of the stuff that goes down in my apartment…we really ought to videotape this shyte and send it to Dr. Frank Njenga. I’m sure he would post the videotapes back with a box of straitjackets! The building committee trustee lives next door and he’s banged on our door severally to complain about the noise, and said that we must be witches coz only witches are allowed to laugh hysterically in the middle of the night. We just sit there giggling to ourselves as his huge jelly-like belly jumps up and down in tandem with his arm movements. It’s even funnier that the dude’s body is so disproportional, he’s a typical Johnny Bravo type. Big upper body, booming voice and feeble twigs for legs.

Anyway, my housemates had been complaining about the monotonous playlist on my PC coz some songs receive airplay from dawn to dusk (inspired by Kiss FM) One of these tracks is Alicia Keys’ Mr Man. While attempting to cheer me up with their own Kao rendition of Mr Man (hence Unfair to Mr Musau!) complete with guitar, the idiots thoroughly assassinated the song! I’m talking worse than Denzel Washington’s shooting in the final scene in Training Day. Sample this:

“I wanna know iv you viu nthe weeeyi I nduuuuuu, I nduuuuuu, I wanna know if nthere’s a nchenz vo meeeeyanyuuuuu, and youuuu… coz I ndowannambe I ndowannambe I ndowannambe unvair to Mr Musauuu!”

All this with knees to the floor, eyes shut in a very deep/emotional pose, and fists clenched while singing their hearts out.

But the part that nearly killed me was my housemates’ chic (in 5 year old girl’s soprano and while brrinking shameressry)

“I like nthe way you ngeeeeving me atteeenzon nthrough nthe night…!”

Let’s just say that I won’t be playing that track for a very, very long time.

Last night one of the resident lunatics told us a story that was just plain silly, hilarious, sick, malicious and sad.

In Nairobi, the railway line passes through Jericho and/Umoja, right? There used to be some bored ass muggers who would wait for noon when the railway track had expanded due to the intense solar heat. Then they would apply some lubricant on about 10 metres of railway track and sit back and wait for some unfortunate victim to waylay. When a clueless guy came by, they would grab him, slap him a bit, strip his pants off, lift him shoulder high and then drop him ass first onto the hot metal railway track (YEEEEOOUUUCH!!) ….then drag him by the legs (with ass still in intimate contact with the metal) through the 10 metres of lubricant!! (Please don’t try to picture the skidmarks!)

Then they’d mug him.

I don’t know how true this story is, but it had us in stitches for hours till when the trustee came knocking, he was totally speechless coz some of us were rolling on the floor plucking our hair out while others were simply lying there dying of exhaustion! I guess that explains why guys woke up this morning looking battered as if we had encountered ringworms while serving in Iraq.

Lack of evidence

2006-08-11T15:10:00.001+03:00

First, thanks everyone for the concern that you showed yesterday and for the advice. I’ll talk about that later in this post.

I finally managed to get out of bed on Wednesday, and I decided to go down to the nightclub where this incident occurred to see if the management would be of any assistance. I’d been told that they brushed guys away in the past but I was still determined to give it a try. It was kinda traumatizing having to limp into the club (on crutches) coz as I looked at the workers mopping the floor, all I could think of was that my ass mopped that floor on Saturday night.

I asked to speak to the nightclub’s manager, and he came out and ushered me into his office where I explained the incident to him. The dude was very polite and understanding. He sympathized with me and said he’d follow up the matter with the bouncers involved, then he’d give me a call on Thursday (it’s Friday and I’m still waiting!) Normally it would take the words “racist abuse” and “lawsuit” to galvanize most white folk into taking any action, but this guy actually advised me to sue the brutes involved if I seriously believed that I had been assaulted. He described them and even helped me make a positive ID.

After that, I went to the club next door to have a beer before starting the trek back home. But shock on a black brother’s ass! The manager rushed in branding me a liar! “I’ve just seen the surveillance videos and there’s no proof whatsoever that you were assaulted!” What the %*#@? I asked to see the videos, and he took me to the security room.

As I watched the videos, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry! Let me fill you in on what I saw. Camera one shows me being pushed out of the club, and goon 2 (Hendrik) coming towards me and pushing me towards the exit. Then it goes blank for a few seconds (there was either a blind spot there or this shit was edited!) and when it resumes from a different angle, it shows me holding my face while Hendrik drags me down the corridor towards the exit. I’m clearly not putting up any physical resistance. The next clip shows him charging at me as I stand at the exit just next to the stairs, but misses out on the action that ensues after that. Turns out that Kobus and Hendrik actually do have a modicum of intelligence up in those heads, if you must do something nasty, do it away from the cameras!! That’s why guys have been unsuccessful in the past, because they got beaten up away from camera view and therefore they cannot prove that it happened.

To make matters worse, the dude goes like “um…that clip shows my doorman escorting you out in an acceptable manner, he’s not assaulting you here….um…that shows you clearly provoking my doorman by giving him lip (oh, so you’re a lip reading expert as well?) and making “come hither” gestures towards yourself…” Come hither? Do people still use such language? Tell you what bru, right now I’d love to tether you to a tree and shove this size 13 Caterpillar boot up your thutha! Ati come hither. Schoopid!

In other words, there is no solid evidence to show that I got beaten up inside the club since there are no cameras in there. The video doesn’t show the “blind spot” where Hendrik punched and kicked me. There is also no evidence to prove that I was pushed down the stairs! WHAAAAAAAT!!? That means that I have absolutely nothing to work with!

In the absence of any clear and unbiased (and most importantly SOBER) witnesses, it will be my word against Kobus’ and he’ll definitely deny beating me up inside the club and dragging me across the floor through all the spilt beer and broken glass all the way to the exit! Or he’ll use the drunk and disorderly vibe and add that I verbally provoked him. It will also be my word against Hendrik’s and he’ll definitely deny throwing me down the stairs and attempting to cause more damage as I lay on the floor! In short, I’ve just been screwed.

I feel very disappointed right now. Would I be wrong to compare it to (from a woman’s perspective) being raped, but the rapist gets to walk away scot free because you have not a single shred of tangible evidence against him? No DNA, no strand of hair, no skin under your fingernails, no torn clothes, and he has the perfect alibi? Yet you both know he did it? You can make all the noise on earth and still not accomplish anything!

I’ve been forced to bury the issue coz there’s nothing more that I can do without any evidence to support my claim of assault. I doubt that the management will take any action against their bouncers and this shit will continue to happen every other week.

AK suggested raising this matter with the SA Human Rights Commission and reporting it to the cops so that the SAHRC have something to work with. Kenyanchick suggested writing to the papers. There are many ways I could make noise i.e. newspapers, TV programmes such as Special Assignment and Third Degree. The thing that I’m afraid of is intimidation and victimization since it wouldn’t be too hard for them to figure out who called the press on them. And yesterday I spoke about ruffling feathers if you don’t know how big the bird is. Think about it, there must be a reason why all the other victims shut up and I’m not really sure that I want to find out why. Plus, there’s no way I can prove my claim beyond any reasonable doubt since the evidence in their possession shows otherwise and leaves lots of loopholes. Unless I do this anonymously… I really don’t know.

But I’m a firm believer in karma. What goes around comes around (is that correct?) You can only run away from your shit for so long coz it will always catch up with you in the end. And we all know just how much of a bitch karma can be. One way or the other, these two racists plus the establishments that support such behaviour will face the music.

I should have stayed home...

2006-08-10T13:30:00.000+03:00

Before last weekend, I was already having a bad week. I’d pretty much kept to myself as I wasn’t feeling too social. I knew I was going to be bad company so I decided to stay home and hang out with the only true person that I know, myself. The idea was to put a few movies on en-queue, make some popcorn, grab a coke and doze through all of them. My cell phone had been off most of the time, and now I regret why I turned the damn thing back on coz I had a series of missed calls and texts from friends who were very concerned about my antisocial behavior. The calls kept coming and somehow I got derailed to leave my little comfort zone and venture outdoors. That proved to be mistake number two coz if I thought my week had been crappy, it was about to get worse. Much, much worse.

I’ll get straight to the point. I got assaulted by two very beefy white bouncers at a predominantly white nightclub on Saturday night. Beefy doesn’t even begin to describe the goons, they were built like a couple of ox on steroids! (I found out today that they’re actually on steroids!!) There I was chilling at the balcony with a pal enjoying our beers and making conversation when goon one (let’s call him Kobus) picked on us and ordered us “kaffirs” to get the f**k out of the club. At that point we noticed that not only were we outsized, but every other white person in the club, including some familiar faces from some of my lectures, had turned a blind eye to the harassment that was taking place, so we decided that it would be in our best interests to leave. We got up from our seats and I told him very politely, in fact with hands raised to chest in a “back off” motion, to hold his horses, we’re leaving.

The dude pulls me back. “What did you say?” and I replied, very calmly and politely, that we were on our way out so could he please relax…..” Suddenly, and without provocation, the goon punched me! Once, twice, and again and again until I fell to the floor, then he proceeded to kick me repeatedly in the ribs and in the back. Those jabs connected with my head in the same way that a bowling ball slams into the pins. Swift and hard. Now the kicks are another story altogether, coz those steel toed boots that have lots of chains and a five inch sole…kwani he thought he was making a conversion for the Springboks? His pal (let’s call him Hendrik) joined in the action and added a few more punches and “conversions” of his own before chasing me down a corridor like a common thug and throwing me down two flights of stairs! Now, how the hell do you do this to a fellow living, breathing human being? To make matters worse, the second guy was still charging at me even as I lay on the floor at the bottom of the stairs clutching at my knee in obvious pain, but at that point other bouncers had realized that something was seriously wrong and they rushed to hold him back.

However reluctant I am to pull the race card coz of the way it’s been over-used as an excuse for everything in this country, this incident has every marking of a racist attack. Why?
1. We were the only two black people in the club yet goon 1 (Kobus) came straight to us and ordered us to leave. Why, when we’re simply minding our own business?
2. We did not provoke or attack anyone. How can you justify using such force?
3. The language used i.e. “Didn’t you fucking kaffirs hear what I said? I said get the fuck out of here!” Kaffir is a derogative term for blacks in Afrikaans. As I lay on the floor, goon 2 (Hendrik) goes like “he doesn’t sound South African, he must be a fucking illegal. There’s nothing he can do to us!” (ok call that one xenophobia)

As a result of this incident, I sustained several bruises to my face, shoulders, rib area, back and butt, as well as torn ligaments in my right knee. How I didn’t fracture anything, only the good Lord knows, but I’m grateful all the same.

Such events occur every single week at this entertainment complex. My friends and I have been denied service at these white clubs severally. And even when we did get service, it was pathetic. You can spend 10 minutes waving your cash right before the barman’s nose and he’ll act like he didn’t see you, then he’d serve you a draught in a filthy glass and give you wrong change. Complaints to the management always fall on deaf ears with the reply: “if you don’t like it here, you can always go elsewhere!” But there are no better options, the only other place being in central (tao) and believe me, it’s not the safest place to be if you intend to have some booze. Several people (of all races) have been brutally beaten up by these bouncers. It’s no secret that not less than three people did not live to see the sun rise the next morning after receiving a thorough beating from these bouncers.

I understand the importance of having security at nightclubs, but shouldn’t there be a limit to the amount of force that they can use on an individual? The key word here shouls be reasonable force. If someone caused a breach of the peace, is it reasonable to beat him to a pulp? Is it reasonable for two powerfully built bouncers to descend on one skinny dude such as myself, who’s nowhere near half the size of either, with several punches to the head and kicks to the ribs and back? Where do you get off hurling someone down two flights of stairs? Are you human? Is your little brain fully functional?

I’m really trying to picture what goes on in the minds of such dense racist Afrikaners. (the few that I’ve come across, most whites are actually ok) I bet that Kobus wakes up every morning, scratches his hairy balls, brushes his tooth, rubs some vaseline over his bald head, checks to see that the body odour is on point, has a few boerewors, oats and rooibos tea for breakfast before kissing his wife Olga and his mother goodbye, picks up his club and goes to join his fellow half-witted ox Hendrik for a joint and have a barfing contest while they discuss the latest cricket scores.

Then he proceeds to his workplace, polishes his stool at the door to the nightclub and sits there waiting for some underaged flat assed girls to grope and little black folk to use as punching bags. At the end of his shift, he collects his measly 100 Rand wage, buys some biltong for his son and cheap 20 Rand wine for his fat wife, gets home to proudly proclaim to his mother “Ma! I moered me some kaffirs tonight! I klapped them real nice!” And I bet he bows low for a pat on the head, a peck on the cheek and a compliment “Ja! Lekker! That’s my boy! Your father would have been veeery proud of you!”

You fucking pea brained cunts! Someone ought to re-open the gas chambers of Auschwitz which your fellow racists put up, lock you in and unleash some mustard gas on y’all!!!!!!

I considered taking action about this incident but my friends “advised” me to kill the issue quietly as this is not our country and anything could happen to any of us at any time therefore it would not be in our best interests to ruffle any feathers. You never know how big the bird might be!

Now, if you had this done to you, would you simply shut up and forget the issue? Keeping quiet only enforces the belief that these brutes have that there’s nothing that anyone can do to them. And they'll keep on doing their thing. How about all the other students who got brutalized and didn’t speak out about it coz of fear? Would it be fair to them to shut up? How about those who lost their lives to these shameless cowards, would it be fair to them to not take any action?

I haven’t reported the incident to the cops. Sounds stupid, right? I know it does. But the police have in the past used the excuse that the guys who got beaten up were under the influence and so were their witnesses, and they were generally unwilling to be of any further assistance. Plus I have no solid evidence other than my injuries to support the claim that I got assaulted. By that I mean that I have no clear and unbiased witnesses to support my claim. My pal will obviously corroborate my story, and the bouncers will also side with their men and claim that I was drunk and disorderly and that I provoked them.

In tomorrow’s post:

a) Discussion with management
b) lack of evidence

My apologies for the foul language, but I’m seething in anger!

What Now?

2006-08-01T16:13:00.000+03:00

I looked forward to sleep,
Sometimes I dream, and you are there,
And then I realize,
Here’s the reality of my life I’ve come to hate.
Careless whispers heated
the coldness of my smile.
Once upon a time,
Long sexy strokes of confidence
coloured my skin,
Because then,
You were there.
I don’t know if I’ll ever forget
How you made everything to me
Seem complete.
You were the passion
Underneath the harshness of those tidal waves.
They used to sink me and drown me.
And then,
You gave your breath to me.
And then
I tasted the sweet flavour of life.
Now I need to break the intricate web,
You have woven around me.
Safety cuddles me like a soft lullaby,
But then,
That was the only song I wanted to hear.
And then, you threw it away.
Bittersweet sensations,
Lingered like an unwanted scar.
You hid me far away from the
Painful truth,
And then,
You tossed your heart high up into
The night-time sky.
Far enough,
I cried because I couldn’t see it.
Now I look forward to sleep.
I can dream,
When you were there.
But like love insatiable,
You remain where memories call,
Like haunting winds.

By Edoria

I won’t grieve for you.

Wounds may heal but the scars always remain.

Love can sometimes be like magic,

which itself is nothing more than a fucking illusion.

Archer owns up.

2006-07-25T15:43:00.000+03:00

As you can see, I’ve decided to delete my previous post about the alleged Lorna Irungu porn pics. I received plenty of negative comments about it, some even bordering on the brink of abusive and emotional.

It takes a real man to own up to his mistakes and to make amends for them, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. Not to please anyone who was not impressed by the post, but because it is the right thing to do. Despite the anonymity that I enjoy in blogosphere, I still do have morals and a conscience.

Clearly my so called “well informed sources” aka “insiders” were not truthful with that information and I was led to believe that the chic in the pics was Lorna. It turned out not to be. Many of you already know the truth about the origin of the pics and the identity of the chic, and I thank you for showing me the light. At least I’ll be better placed to inform others who are still convinced that it is indeed Lorna. In that case I truly apologise to Lorna (though I highly doubt that she’ll be reading this) for contributing in my own way to tarnishing her good reputation, and to anybody else who felt offended by the post. That was definitely not my intention, I thought I was merely exercising my freedom of speech and opening up a can of worms was definitely not what I had in mind.

I literally shot myself in the foot over that issue coz after reading one of my previous posts about Kenyans and our rumour mongering and gossiping habits, I still went out and basically did the same thing that I was criticizing! How stupid was that?

Haiya, now to you, James. First, thanks for reading my posts and for your generous comments. Much appreciated. But as for your vitriolic comments, all I can say is that however much I try to write stuff that people will read and hopefully enjoy, I blog, first and foremost, for myself, to express my thoughts and feelings about events that occur in my life. I’m not here to please or suck up to anyone. I understand that you were offended by the post, many people were. But there was no need to get all emotional and vitriolic.

(which reminds me of something I’ve always thought about but I’ve never got round to proving. One can argue with facts and win [or lose] but once one starts an argument fuelled by emotion, just concede defeat and let go. Coz you definitely won't win! And that’s why women always “win” arguments! Coz we let them!)

This experience has taught me a couple of things. Don’t believe everything you hear. Freedom of expression comes at a price. And that KBW has a very mature membership and audience. I’m impessed.

Anyway I hope this successfully settles the matter once and for all. Now let’s get on with life.

A.O.B:

A few other subtle changes on the blog, my profile pic is now in colour (is that really newsworthy?) and The Acolyte was kind enough to let me harass him for a few weeks to upload a stats counter onto my blog. Asante sana. Beers on me at a meet-up in future.

Tumefika Naivasha?

2006-07-20T17:50:00.000+03:00

I just received this email and it was so hilarious, I felt I had to share it! Enjoy!

This is a real story!

A story is told of this young girl who boarded a matatu from town (NRB). The Matatu was headed for Western Kenya.

On reaching Westlands the gal got from her seat and walked to thedriver and asked, 'Tumefika Naivasha?"

In amazement the driver answered her, "bado mtoto"

On they moved and on reaching Kangemi the gal walked to the driver again, "Tumefika Naivasha?"

"Bado" the driver replied.

After another 10 mins, the girl asked the same question and the same answer was given. The driver was by now getting very irritated by the little one who was asking if they had reached Naivasha after every few minutes but the passengers just looked on.

The next time she asked, the driver promised that he would alert her when they got to Naivasha, "Tukifika Naivasha, nitakuambia."

So the young one relaxed, sat on her seat and perhaps even blacked out. On reaching Naivasha, the driver had neatly forgotten the deal, so he continued driving and twenty minutes after Naivasha the girl stood up and asked the driver the usual question.

Oh Oh, the driver had no words now that he had forgotten to keep his promise. The fellow passengers in anger started quarrelling the driver for failing the young girl. They demanded that she be driven back to Naivasha then they proceed to wherever they were going.

Being the good guy that he was, the driver turned the matatu around and drove back to Naivasha and told the girl, "Sasa tuko Naivasha."

The girl stood up, stretched her hands to the luggage rack, picked her bag, opened it, removed bread and milk, sat down and started eating the bread and drinking the milk.

Now everyone in the matatu wondered and just looked at the gal. So the driver goes, "Tumefika Naivasha, si ushuke!" and the girl goes, "Mami aliniambia nikifika Naivasha, nitoe mkate yangu na maziwa nikule."

"Na unaenda wapi?" asked the driver.

The girl replies calmly and in between munches..."Naenda Kakameka"

A college student’s diet!

2006-07-17T16:05:00.000+03:00

I’m back in blogosphere after a three weeks’ winter vacation in freezing Johannesburg. Well I haven’t really been missing in action, it’s just that I was having way too much fun to sit and type out my thoughts. I’ve been lurking around the KBW Aggregator though, hapa na pale kwa akina KenyanMusings na Acolyte enjoying some rather interesting but pointless drama (up at KM’s). It’s interesting to see how daft some people can be. But I guess basic logic isn’t common in all human beings. Some were nyimwad when it was being dished out.

Every November when I get back to Nairobi and meet my pals, guys are always like “My guy, si you bring those Rands we saidia you to finish them?” or “si you throw pints? Umetoka ng’ambo bana, hauwezi kosa chapaa!” I don’t know where guys get this idea that once you leave the country, you instantly start balling wherever you are. If only they knew how tough life is out here especially for a student. I don’t have a job coz I could say I’m fortunate enough not to need one. But still, it’s not as if I get a hundred grand a month. And when poverty strikes, boy does it strike HARD! You’ll understand what I mean if you’ve ever had a meal that consists of any of the following:

a) popcorn, a mandazi, black sugarless coffee
b) ice cubes and onions (SERIOUS!!)
c) dry bread escorted by the aroma of fried chicken from next door, and tap water
d) ugali na uji (where the uji is the mboga for the ugali)
e) ugali kubwa na ugali ndogo (where the small ugali is the mboga for the big ugali)

I can assure you that the above menu is not made up coz I’ve had some of the above on various occasions over the last three years, the most recent being a few nights ago where I had option (a). The last two were my neighbour’s two years ago.

I’ve just come back from vacation and before leaving I’d split my cash into two separate bank accounts and left one debit card at home and gone with the other one. Having cleaned out one account while in Jozi, I knew I had some cash in the other account when I got back but alas! The schoopid gym decided to deduct subscription fees for the last four months by debit order coz apparently they had a problem with their systems so they didn’t charge me before. So there I was staring at the ATM in utter disbelief as it spat out my card screaming in bold letters “TRANSACTION CANNOT BE COMPLETED DUE TO INSUFFICIENT FUNDS!!” What the f***?!

Getting home, my housemates had been partying heavily during the vacation so their funds were low as well. We organized a harambee chap chap to buy dinner and it was almost laughable to discover that our collective net worth was less than the price of a kuku down at the mini supermarket!! As we sat watching some soap opera on TV and passed the popcorn round, the commercial break comes on and it’s almost always something to do with food! Steers, KFC, McDonalds, Nandos, Spur Steak ranch etc and it’s sooo annoying when you can’t afford even the cheapest item on the menu and the advert does nothing but diss you and make you hungrier!! There’s always a family at a restaurant biting large chunks of their chicken/steak and smiling to each other in satisfaction, then someone turns to the camera saying “try out our delicious 300g spare ribs today for only R49.95! Now with a new secret barbecue sauce!” On several occasions I’ve been tempted to smash the bloody TV to pieces coz of this. Have you ever stared at a steak on TV till you can actually taste the “secret barbecue sauce” in your mouth?

That’s how I manage to shed 8 kilos during the year, but mama Archer has always been one to stuff my belly full with her wonderful home cooking so I always manage to regain the lost weight and more in only 2.5 months…only to lose it all over again the next year. Silly cycle. (I’m a skinny dude, so yes I’m allowed to wish for some weight!)

Life is tough guys, it really is. So this November, dare any idiot come up to solicit for pints with the quotes above, ati “aaaah beste! Ati umerudi? Mimi nimekuwa hapa hapa tu. Si vile umeosa huko ng’ambo si utununulie tu ka Tusker moja…..” I’m a slap the black off your face coz you have absolutely no idea what I’ve been through!

My three favourite Kenyan tracks:

1. Ritwa Riaku (Eric Wainaina): so beautiful. Instrumental plus vocals. If only I knew what he says!
2. Mane Wabet (Mercy Myra): not sure if that’s the name of the track though. Great instrumental but same as above: if only I knew what she says!
3. Katika (Indigenous): the instrumental is too deadly + the chic’s got a sexy voice! And it makes lunjez sound gisty ati “hako ka-maji…mbili mbili…” the rest of the lyrics are two bob though.

What are your favourite Kenyan tracks?

Busted! Introducing guest blogger “Angelus”

2006-07-17T15:46:00.000+03:00

Ok Archer was a little careless and left the PC on, right on Blogger where I was editing some posts yet to appear here then I got busted! Yes, my cover has been blown! What to do now, change identity? Done that already, less than a month ago coz of the same carelessness on my part. But I’m feeling Archer, so I’m not about to change that any time soon unless I really have to. Anyway, the buster (can I call him that) was quite enthusiastic about this whole blogging thing and I had to pay a little bribe so that he keeps my identity under wraps. (trust Kenyans to solicit for bribes even from family members! Shamelessly yaani!) So the bribe was that I’d give him some airtime on my blog as a guest blogger. I thought about it and I thought it was a small price to pay for my anonymity so why not? Ok guy, you’ve got your 15 seconds of fame. Do your thing!

Angelus:

I am a Kenyan who has lived outside Kenya for the past six years. Six years isn’t long but if you consider that these six years were the personality forming years of my life, the years when my eyes were open to the real world, a world so different to the PS 1 games that have become the modern day folk tales. The game consoles are the village elders and the games themselves are the tales. But that’s a story for another day. So forgive me if I am not in touch with what’s going down on ground zero.

I would like to start my blogging career by commenting on something that I have seen creeping out of the wood works as South Africa enters it’s adolescent age. The thing that I want to talk about is freedom bashing. I am guilty of doing this so I can safely say I comment objectively. I happened to have the opportunity to read KenyanMusing’s interesting post about her getting a good hard fuck, but due to my quiet sexual habits I dismissed her article without giving it much of a thought and even suggested that it shouldn’t have been there. But I was wrong, she was expressing her freedom of speech, and she had every right to put it there. It’s only after reading more and more of her posts that I began to admire the intellect and great sense of humour that this chic is endowed with. I must admit that I fell for the same trap many of my peers fall for, bashing the freedom just because it’s not the freedom that we want. I think some of us really need to go and check up the denotation “Freedom”.

A few weeks ago I was listening to some talk radio; the DJ was interviewing a high profile Joburg socialite. She has been getting a lot of beef cause she is honest to everybody about what she is all about. This chic is about fur coats, German cars, beauty parlors, stiletto heels and of course the ICE. Now she is 20, she’s engaged to some mega high roller who happens to be somewhere bordering on 50. He pays for everything so if you’re thinking she’s a gold digger you may be right.

This interview happened to take place during the 30-year anniversary of the Sharpeville Massacre, so there were a lot of emotions flowing through the air. as expected people called in and had there say, but there happened to be a particular caller who peeked my interest. He said that all that was fought for in 1976 was all in vain as we as the modern generation have not lived up to the freedom they thought they would get. I am telling you this guy dissed this chic savagely. My problem is that this guy’s tip was that today we are not living up to the ideals that they were brought up to several years ago. He was putting us down for living freely we were expressing the same freedom that they fought for.

Anyway this is just an example of this ideology and it’s not restricted to the older generation either. I hope we can allow people to express themselves whatever way they feel like coz it’s their freedom and nobody else’s.

Angelus

Archer’s note: This A-name business is not a family thing so don’t even ask. Anyway, Angelus has really taken a liking to reading Kenyan blogs since I introduced him to it. He promises to reveal more about himself and why he chose the name Angelus real soon. So look out for some young promising talent soon to join blogosphere.

Think Pink? HELL NAW!!

2006-06-26T15:32:00.000+03:00

Two or three years ago it would be considered a cardinal sin for any man worth his salt to possess any pink garment, handkerchief included. I guess this was to avoid any association with any form of femininity or homosexuality. Besides, pink just ain’t cool for the male species, it doesn’t matter if you’re rolling in a fleet of pink Maybach 62s, IT JUST AIN’T COOL!!!

Enter 2005/2006 where everything pink, from shirts, ties, suits etc are suddenly the hype, considered cool, trendy and fashionable…for men! The first time I saw a dude in a pink shirt I thought to myself “omera what the f*** are you thinking? Hebu go check yourself!” But more and more guys kept sporting pink polo shirts, caps…the works. Nowadays pink shirts and matching ties have become acceptable formal/official wear! How now?

Even my boys who considered themselves “hard-core defenders of everything male” joined the bandwagon, and the last straw was when my much better half (who just happens to looooove pink!) tried to get me with the programme! Hell naw! There’s absolutely no way in hell you’re getting me into any pink article of clothing! I HATE THE COLOUR PINK! The only things spared from this hatred of pink are of course: the sweet center of inner physical feminine beauty, strawberry milkshake and ham. OK maybe Pink Panther as well. But that’s it!

I have a theory for how this pink revolution started. All major fashion trends emerge from the major fashion houses of Paris, Milan and new York, right? Me thinks the big shot designers, fashionistas (or whatever they call themselves) were going through a creativity drought and decided to have a bet amongst each other to see who could come up with a brand new trend that involve something that has never been considered in fashion ever! So one guy decided to take the pink route, and got some celebs to wear his stuff, and knowing how anything, however outrageous and ugly but endorsed by celebs will sell! (Air Force One sneakers, those shady ass retro G Unit sneakers etc) Shortly the whole world followed suit!

Doesn’t anyone realize that maybe we’re pawns in a much bigger game being played between much bigger powers? Coz do we really have an option of whether or not to clothe ourselves in their stuff? Must every brand or trend that’s been endorsed by celebs suddenly become cool in the sense that should I have to buy them even if they didn’t suit my taste coz I’ll be considered “uncool” if I don’t? Don’t you think that perhaps these designers and celebs may be sipping $20,000 champagne in the back seats of their custom made limousines staring out onto the ordinary folk walking on the pavements thinking ‘these idiots will buy ANYTHING that has my name on it. It doesn’t have to be attractive, just get my label on it! I might as well design a jacket from dog fur and they will still buy it!!” They’ve got the whole world wrapped around their little fingers in the name of fashion and we blindly ape every trend that emerges from the west.

In the end, who loses out? We foolish Africans and Kenyans who have lost our identity until we have to get a commission of inquiry to design a national uniform for us (and they still bring us the maasai kikois which have long been considered the national uniform in the first place), or the major international fashion houses which couldn’t give two shits about us but still mint hundreds of millions of dollars from us annually?

Kenyan Youth and Politics

2006-06-22T17:56:00.000+03:00

I’ve made a very interesting observation about the Kenyan youth, especially those fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to study out of the country. Many young people under age 24 seem to have absolutely no interest in what’s going on in Kenya. Many don’t bother to read the papers online. Yesterday, due to lack of time to read the entire online editions, I printed out sections of the Standard and the Nation, in particular articles about the Armenians saga to read over lunch. I ran into some fellow Kenyan students who were absolutely clueless that such events had occurred and they were so surprised to see the printouts! Mention the raid on the media earlier this year, the launch of Narc-Kenya, Kibaki and his family domez, and all I got was blank stares as if I was speaking in somali or something.

This indifference also extends to politics. Severally I’ve tried making conversation with guys about the political situation back home and who they’re likely to vote for come next year’s general elections. No one seemed to be least bit bothered! Guys would much rather gossip, discuss soccer and entertainment, get boozed and get laid. Is that all we live for? Many young Kenyans don’t bother to register as voters and even if they do, getting their lazy asses down to the polling stations is another thing altogether!

Obviously I blame the clowns who are currently in power for the lack of interest in politics among the youth coz with all that nonsense they spew out their mouths on a daily basis. Maybe we feel totally helpless or we might think that Kenya is beyond help so we’d much rather not think about it. Or maybe we feel that it’s not our place to speak out against these seasoned politicians.

An idea struck me although I don’t know how feasible it would be or if it’s even possible. I’m not a political genius so work with me here. It’s mostly based on assumption.

The youth make up about 60% of registered voters, right? That makes us the outright majority of voters, but I highly doubt that there is any political party in Kenya that actually reaches out to the youth. I’m talking about having the youth’s interests at heart. Kenyan politics is all about name calling and mud slinging, and in the process no one bothers to address issues (or at least make empty promises in their manifestos) to address issues faced by the youth.

We face various issues that include HIV/AIDS, sexual (as well as other forms of) abuse, inadequate educational facilities, lack of employment opportunities for university graduates, lack of adequate opportunities to develop individual talents among others.

Anyway, the idea is, would it be possible/feasible to start a political party that solely caters for the interests of the youth? I’m not necessarily talking about going for the top seats, but let’s assume that the party could reach out to the youth in all corners of the country and educate them about their rights and the importance of having a party that’s formed for the youth and by the youth, encourage them to register as voters and to actually go to the polling stations on election day and vote. Throw in a few inspirational young leaders and through aggressive campaigning somehow manage to get something like 40% of the youth registered to vote, to become party members.

Such a move will make the more established political parties wake up and realize that the youth are a very important portion of the electorate that has long been ignored and that we’re tired of being taken for granted. They will definitely start taking the youth more seriously, and they’ll come up with agendas, platforms, policies or whatever fancy names they give to their plans of action. This youth party would then form an alliance to swing the youth vote in favour of whichever party that has the most solid plan to address issues faced by the youth. Future support for the party will be based on how well they tackled these issues.

Moi used to tell the youth “you are the leaders of tomorrow…” that was years ago but what we see today is a bunch of senile septuagenarians in power and driving Kenya to the ground. This “tomorrow” will not just pop out of a hole and announce “I’m here!!” Tomorrow will become today only when the youth decide to get more involved in politics and in matters that affect their own lives, when young Kenyan graduates out there decide to come back home and share their wealth of knowledge and help in building the country instead of throwing stones from afar.

So what do you think?

NO GOOD MEN LEFT

2006-06-22T17:51:00.000+03:00

Lately I’ve noticed a growing trend, that of guy bashing. It seems as if for chics, bashing men is the coolest thing at the moment. It’s everywhere! In blogosphere, magazines, movies, random chiles all over the place uttering comments such as “all men are dogs! Men are the cause of all problems! We don’t need men in our lives! There are no good men left.” Why lie I’ve been getting increasingly irritated by the day and I just had to comment about it. Probably this job could have been done better by the likes of Udi and Oyunga Pala, but sorry I’m not going to wait that long for them to do it, I’m a speak my peace right here right now.

Whereas I acknowledge the fact that men are not perfect creatures, I doubt that it’s fair for women to judge all men based on experiences that they’ve had with those elements who give the rest of us such a bad name. Women should also take the blame for the way in which modern men behave. Why? Coz simply, women don’t know what they want, and yet they expect men to know what they (the women) want! How now?

I recently stumbled upon Supaflyshi’s post “ Do you know where your balls are?” and I have beef with part of what she wrote. (nothing personal) She says “...there are no mandingo men out there. Yaani the kind of man that’s just that...a man. The kind of man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to get it or go ask for it. The kind of man who will grab your ass, push you against the wall and fuck your brains out with your panties to the side and than ask for ugali and mbuzi after that. It’s not that he does not have a softer side, he does, but is only to be seen when necessary...”

Nothing personal girl, but what the f***? Are you out of your goddamn mind? I highly doubt that any sane woman would be anywhere near impressed if she ever experienced anything like this! In fact, you’d be seriously traumatized and you’d probably call FIDA shortly after calling the cops on his ass! You fail to realize that a man will treat you exactly how you allow him to. This kind of man will take advantage of you later on, he’ll control you and be possessive and he’ll beat the shit out of you! I’m tempted to say that sometimes I think women deliberately get themselves into such situations just so they can have the scars to show, and can therefore be justified in calling all men beasts, but I won’t say it!

When women talk of all men being dogs, it’s like putting every single male human being in the same category, whether he’s a monk, prince charming or a rapist, and that’s just not fair! Don’t you dare use the argument that given the opportunity, all men will stray, including the monk. (Unless you mean that he cheats on his left hand with the right one!) If anything, nowadays chics are worse dogs (better playas) than men! Just coz you scraped through the bottom of the barrel and scooped up all the wrong elements doesn’t mean all men are the same or that they’re not good enough for you.

Some say that when it comes to dealing with a new guy, it’s better to expect the worst coz it cushions you from getting hurt, rather than to expect good which in the end turns out not to be. But I say that it’s not fair to use past experiences as a defence mechanism for preparing yourselves for future experiences with ALL men who may come into your lives. Coz you might run into a genuinely good guy, but at the back of your mind, you remember that your two or three past boyfriends dogged on you and therefore this one is likely to do the same so you don’t give him a chance. There goes a perfect opportunity to get you a good man.

We live in a very superficial world. I think that movies and all those glossy magazines have really disoriented women’s thinking. What is the definition of a real man? Really. The concept of a real man keeps changing by the day according to current trends. Because of this and changing expectations of women, men adapt themselves to suit those expectations but it ends up being a lose/lose situation for us. When the metrosexual trend came in, guys realized that the only way to land some chics would be to add an element of metrosexual-ness to themselves, not the full waxing of legs and getting pedicures like David Beckham, I’m talking about investing a little more in things that a man normally wouldn’t do like buying pink shirts (my beef with pink shirts is a story for another day) expensive colognes and silly creams, switching from beer to exotic cocktails with such fancy names which no African can comfortably pronounce in addition to “being in touch with our feminine sides” i.e. being sensitive and emotional, engaging in PDA (public display of affection) When this happens, other chics say that men ain’t got no balls. When men don’t do the above and behave in the way we were taught that real men should behave i.e. don’t shave below the neck (although a little trim down south may be allowed) reserve displays of affection for more private moments, fancy cocktails with umbrellas and orange peels are for the ladies so stick to beer and spirits, then chics say we’re outdated and boring. So what do you want us to do? Make up your minds, decide what you want and send us the memo and we’ll get with the programme!

Movies impart certain fairytales of a prince charming who doesn’t really exist! No one will come sweeping you off your feet in this world of today. It’s the truth. Those fairytale romances ended a long time ago. But if you treat yourself like a queen, then you will definitely meet a man who will treat you like you deserve to be treated. If you have no respect for yourself, you sleep around or you don’t even bother to spruce yourself up on occasion, then how do you expect any man to treat you any differently?

Speaking of magazines and TV, why is it that certain double standards are applied on men? Why are celebs allowed to act in a certain way that we mere mortals would not be allowed to? A few weeks ago, for lack of anything better to watch on South African television, I switched to Oprah, and her guest was Matthew McConaughey who was voted the sexiest man alive by some magazine. Sawa, good for the brother. The dude tells Oprah that he’s never used roll on/deodorant/colognes/aftershave since he was a teenager. When asked why, he explains that he loves being natural, and that his mother told him he smells so good that he doesn’t need deo. Of course your mother would never tell you that your body odour stinks!! Anyway, the audience (which of course is 100% female) oooooing and aaaaahing. But how many of these or other women would ever let their man go natural for a day without kunjaing their noses? Ama coz this dude’s the sexiest guy in the world his body odour’s supposed to smell like heaven?

Chics seem to have a thing for “bad boys” coz of the air of unpredictability that they have. Or they believe that they can be the one to change the dude. But how often do chics succeed in changing a bad boy into an angel? It’s never happened! Ever! Don’t be mistaken, guys change, but only when they themselves decide to change or when they meet the one woman who makes them want to stop their bad habits. Not coz the chic changed them! A few pals of mine have had the misfortune (if I can call it that) falling for these bad boy types. I’m talking about some ruffian brutes that appear to have absolutely no clue whatsoever how to treat a lady. I tried to discourage them but they hooked up with the guys regardless. After a month of being cheated on, beaten and being mistreated generally, they came running back to me for help. My question always is: Woman, what did you expect?? If you consciously get yourself into such a predicament while ignoring the obvious signs, then you have only yourself to blame for the aftermath! When sh*t hits the fan, these chics turn around and say that all men are animals/dogs/brutes etc. How now? You’ve made your bed, now either put up or shut up! If and when you decide to move on, remember that it was your mistake, not the brute that beat your ass up! He was just being himself!!

About men being the cause of all problems, this is where feminism comes in. Feminism originally was about women’s rights and empowerment, equality, affirmative action, Beijing conference, maendeleo ya wanawake and all that stuff. Good! I support that 100%!! I agree that women should be treated as equal to men in every sphere of life. But when chics take this to another level, that of extreme feminism/chauvinism/ reverse misogyny, all this sh*t about men being the cause of all problems, independent woman stuff that women don’t need men in their lives etc, now that in my opinion is absolute bollocks. Why would a chic say that she doesn’t need a man in her life but she wants to get one with desirable genetic qualities to father her children? Yes it’s the woman’s right to decide whether she wants the father to be part of the kid’s life but I’m so against this coz why would you want to deny your child the God given right to have both parents when you probably had both? What happens when the kid grows up messed up, or begins to ask questions? What will you tell the kid? I’m not trying to say that all kids who grow up in single parent families are messed up, but there are times in the child’s life that he/she will need a father!

Today, chics also set unreasonably high standards and expectations before they can give guys a second glance. Ati the dude should be independent (i.e. not live under his parent’s roof) he should have a high profile job and be financially secure, he should have his own car and a tastefully furnished apartment, he should dress in the latest testosterone-deprived fashions from Paris, Milan and New York (PINK SHIRTS!!) . Someone please explain to me how this makes him Mr Right. Obviously it would be good for a dude to come fully loaded with the above, but why some chics would be so materialistic as to dismiss guys who are still working their way up is beyond me.

I understand the fact that guys are not perfect, but chics ain’t perfect either. Y’all need to lower your standards to acceptable levels and quit stereotyping about all men being dogs etc. What I can tell you is that y’all should stop looking in all the wrong places coz Mr Right is probably right under your nose but you’re just too blind to see it. The good guys left are the kind of guy you’d never give a second glance coz he may not look like Morris Chestnut or Boris Kodjoe, doesn’t drive a flashy car, doesn’t dress fancy or doesn’t have tons of cash to spoil you with expensive gifts. But he has a good heart and given the chance he’ll treat you like a queen.

Re-branding

2006-06-19T13:23:00.000+03:00

A few cosmetic changes have taken place here, the old name Midnight Frisco has been replaced by Archer. I think it was a silly name for a blog in the first place. Exams are in progress, normal service will resume shortly.

To Women of this World

2006-06-02T14:07:00.000+03:00

RE: 2006 World Cup List of Rules

1. From 9 June to 9 July 2006, you should read the sports section of the newspapers so that you are aware of what is going on regarding the World Cup, and that way you will be able to join in the conversations. If you fail to do this, then you will be looked at in a bad way, or you will be totally ignored. DO NOT complain about not receiving any attention.

2. During the World Cup, the television is mine, at all times, without any exceptions. If you even take a glimpse of the remote control, you will lose it (your eye).

3. If you have to pass by in front of the TV during a game, I don't mind, as long as you do it crawling on the floor and without distracting me.

4. During the games I will be blind, deaf and mute, unless I require a refill of my drink or something to eat. You are out of your mind if you expect me to listen to you, open the door, answer the telephone, or pick up the baby that just fell from the second floor...it won’t happen.

5. It would be a good idea for you to keep a few gallons of juices in the fridge at all times, as well as plenty of things to nibble on, and please do not make any funny faces to my friends when they come over to watch the games. In return, you will be allowed to use the TV between 12am and 6am, unless they replay a good game that I missed during the day.

6. Please, please, please!! If you see me upset because one of my teams is losing, DO NOT say "get over it, it’s only a game", or "don't worry, they'll win next time". If you say these things, you will only make me angrier and I will love you less. Remember, you will never ever know more about football than me and your so-called "words of encouragement" will only lead to a thorough beating, a break up or divorce.

7. You are welcome to sit with me to watch one game and you can talk to me during half-time but only when the commercials are on, and only if the half-time score is pleasing me. In addition, please note I am saying ONE game, hence do not use the World Cup as a nice cheesy excuse to "spend quality time together".

8. The replays of the goals are very important. I don't care if I have seen them or I haven't seen them, I want to see them again. Many times!

9. Tell your friends NOT to have any babies, or any other child related parties or gatherings that require my attendance because:
a) I will not go,
b) I will not go, and
c) I will not go.

10. But, if a friend of mine invites us to his house on a Sunday to watch a game, we will be there in a flash.

11. The daily World Cup highlights show on TV every night is just as important as the games themselves. Do not even think about saying "but you have already seen this...why don't you change the channel to something we can all watch??", the reply will be: "Refer to Rule #2 of this list".

12. And finally, please save your expressions such as "Thank God the World Cup is only every 4 years". I am immune to these words, because after this comes the Premier League, the Champions League, Italian League, Spanish League, etc.

13. Rules are meant to be kept, not broken. This applies to these rules.

Thank you for your co-operation.

Best Regards,
Men of the World

(Article was shamelessly jacked from an e-mail forward!)

2006-05-24T12:40:00.000+03:00

Sura kama spare part!!

I was watching an episode of Numb3rs season 2 last night where five Indian girls are paid $1000 to donate a kidney and are then flown to the U.S. where a botched operation to remove their kidneys leaves three of them dead. A rich middle aged man lying in what might as well be his death-bed is nowhere near the top of the organ donor waiting list, and decides to use his wealth to buy human spare parts off the black market.

It reminded me of an article I read in FHM SA edition three years ago.

Picture this scenario:

Girl wakes up butt nekkid in a bathtub full of ice. She’s dazed, her mind is spinning. Feels like a hangover but raised to the power of 10! In between shivers she tries to figure out where she is. No clue. She looks around trying to acquaint herself with her surroundings as her blurred vision slowly begins to clear (by now a black chic would have jumped out of the tub into her clothes and skwaleeeeed like a mad woman) On the sink just next to the bathtub lies a hand-written note and a cheap cellphone that doesn’t look familiar. She reaches over to pick up the note but feels a sharp pain in her lower back and decides to wait a bit before she attempts again. She runs her shivering fingers down her back and goes “what the f***?!”

She bears the pain and picks up the note and reads it. “Whatever you do, don’t get out of the bathtub coz you’ll die. We have removed your kidney. We’re not killers so you should count yourself lucky to be alive right now. If you want to live, pick up the cellphone and call the police and medical rescue personnel immediately. Here is your current location...”

After making a very confused call to the cops, an ambulance and her parents, she tries to recollect the events of the previous night. She’d gone to a nightclub with a few friends, had a couple of drinks, maybe more. She danced with her pals and she met a really hot dude who wasted no time in offering to buy her a drink. They sat at the counter for a while, flirting, in between two toilet breaks. Then...poof! Everything’s gone. Lights out.

Then she woke up in the bathtub.

This may sound like a well thought up story but it happened in real life.

Does this stuff happen for real? Strange but true, some things don’t just exist in our creative faculties. They actually do happen! I’ve heard of a couple or three other similar incidents. Here in South Africa! (What, with all these shifty Naijo brodahs all over the place!) You’re on the hanye with your pals, you leave your drink unattended ati to go take a piss then someone decides to spike it. (You can imagine some dude eyeing you and smacking his lips thinking “huyu msee anakaa ako na ma-kidneys fiti!!) Why no-one in a packed nightclub ever sees this spiking shyte happen...I’ll never know! (Ama its coz everyone else is busy soliciting for sex?)

One piece of advice a pal of mine who did his Masters in SA told me before my first year is to never EVER leave my drink unattended. Even with my friends! I thought maybe be was over-exaggerating things, but after I read the FHM story I decided not to take such risks with my life (vile some of us dished up that medical insurance cash! “Ati med aid? I’ve never been sick in my life!!” Tunatembea na Yesu!) My pals think I’m a bit paranoid coz I always have my drink very close to me and every after taking a piss I get a fresh glass and another beer which must be opened in my presence. Ati “Kwani you’re Biwott?”

Illegal trade in human organs is real, it’s a thriving business worth hundreds of millions of dollars a year. Spiking some hindiot’s drink is probably the easiest way to get the job done without attracting too much attention. Some unfortunate victims have had all their organs harvested for sale!! Lungs, kidneys, heart, liver, bladder, pancreas...the works.

Spiking opens up avenues for date rape as well. There are a few desperate men out there who have been unable to get laid using conventional methods so they resort to date-rape drugs.

So just be safe guys. There are some mad psychos out there. Chunga that pint otherwise you might end up in a freezer, afadhali the chic who woke up in the bathtub!

UGALI YA WENYEWE!!

2006-05-24T12:35:00.000+03:00

Kenyans are truly a unique breed! Only Kenyans can do some of the things we do. And it’s not stuff that we can be proud of.

I’ve been quietly following this whole vibe between Mental and Poi from my little ka spot. I don’t want to comment much on the issue coz I know it’s absolutely none of my business and it won’t be fair for me or anyone else for that matter to take sides blindly and start flinging accusations and threats left right and centre. And those who decided to join in the beef should have at least had the courtesy to verify their facts beforehand and assess the situation from a neutral perspective before making their conclusions.

I followed the link in Thinker’s blog to mashada where some individual went all out dragging people’s names through the mud. I wonder where he features in the whole equation. Dude defied basic logic (that Mental resides in the UK whereas Thinker’s based in Kenya) and proceeded to chafua poor M and call for his withdrawal from Mashada to allow for independent investigations. Later he apologized for his comments about M and said ati he was told by a friend who was a pal of who...that sijui who said what....whatefa!!

I’m not trying to start an argument with this dude neither am I trying to re-ignite that whole nasty incident. My beef is with some of our tabiaz as Kenyans. Kuingilia ugali ya wenyewe bila kuosha mikono. Being all up in other people’s business. Taking sides without taking into consideration the other party’s point of view (which I prefer to call blind arguing).

We are also dual-PhD holders in the fields of rumour-mongering (the more malicious the better!) and gossiping. Complete with adding our own version of events such that by the time the vibe gets to the 10th person, it bears absolutely no resemblance whatsoever to the original story! (The big question is: Is it just a Kenyan affair? Coz I’ve interacted with peeps from other countries but they simply can’t out-do us in this field!)

Admit it! We do love to gossip! How else can we explain the growth, or at least the thriving of “gutter press” publications? Coz we love to hear all the dirt! We want to hear all the juicy vibe! The nasty details! Which celeb or politician was busted doing what they shouldn’t have been doing under the cover of darkness? Love triangles seem to be the outright favourite. (I won’t even talk about the pics doing the rounds on the internet of Lorna Irungu allegedly having sex with a mzungu).

People close to me and my family have had their names dragged though the mud courtesy of the gutter press. And boy, it wasn’t pretty! Imagine walking through the streets of Nairobi observing wananchi reading crap about your folks and unleashing comments like “kumbe....ni mbuzi hivi?” and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it! Worse still is that the few who ought to know better still go ahead to believe that bull! I hate to see anyone’s reputation get torn to shreds without at least being given the benefit of doubt.

Why is it that we do this? Why do we desire to see the absolute worst in every scenario, in every person even though we don’t even know them? And why do we believe rumours and gossip about people we know? Why can’t we rise above petty issues and think logically? Why can’t we let people’s personal issues be solved behind closed doors without airing their dirty linen in public?

OK I know that by putting your private domez out into the open, you’re basically asking for attention. There we can understand the intervention. And you will get the attention you crave! But why do we offer more problems than solutions?
I’m disgusted at the way the whole Mental-Poi vibe was handled (on Mashada) except by the two of them of course, coz their reputations are at stake and they have every reason to protect them by providing evidence to their defence. It’s all the other “expert witnesses” who ji-poxed into the vibe and threatened to call thikwodi thibecio (special squad)...

Don’t get me wrong here, I’m on neither side. I’ve read both sets of arguments and defenses and viewed the evidence provided by both. I’ve made my conclusion. But it remains just that, MY opinion. It doesn’t matter what I think! I don’t know either Mental or Poi personally but they surely don’t need another nose being poked into their biz. I think they’ve had more than enough.

To paraphrase a certain well-known phrase, you can take the Kenyan out of Kenya but you can never take Kenya out of him. No matter where you may be on planet earth, you’ll still encounter Kenyans who think and act in the very same way. Rumours will still fly all over the place, baseless allegations will still be made, names will still be dragged through the mud and reputations will still be destroyed.

It’s sad. Very sad, especially the fact that you’d expect mature people to think and act their age but they decide not to.

We should learn to stay away from issues that do not concern us. That’s if they’re private issues that are not out in the open. We ought to offer solutions instead of creating more problems. This rumour-mongering, mud slinging and gossipping enyewe we can do without. Only then can we also get rid of the gutter press (!!!!!!) and all those characters who think and act in similar fashion.

It all starts with you as an individual. Think about it. If we can all strive to be the bigger person I’m sure we can influence those around us to act similarly and with time, hopefully society will change. Ama?

Bottom line: I hope all this blog-o-drama is solved with as little bloodshed as possible.

CFA Rules of Engagement

2006-05-19T16:20:00.000+03:00

I’m sure some of you must have read KM's post about the CFA (Convenient F****** Arrangement) where things did not quite go according to plan coz the CFA got married to some chic and instantly relegated poor Ms KM onto the bilaz train. If you haven’t read the post yet, search for it in KM’s recent archives (KenyanMusings) coz I’m bila clue on how to do the linking thing. It’s only my 3rd post so I’m allowed!

Many of us have found ourselves involved in a strokes arrangement at some point. I know I did, once in my late teens and again in the recent past. And me vile I’m such a kubaf, I made the same assumptions and mistakes the second time round. Never fall for the CFA coz you’ll end up getting hurt!

The thing is, how can’t you fall for your CFA partner? I mean, this is a person you’ve shared your most intimate moments with for a long period of time! The first time y’all get your freak on, it’s mad shagging followed by a cigarette! In fact, it’s magic! You appear, we shag and you disappear! Simple as that! Call a cab and send her home. Tena she’s paying for herself!

As time goes by, you get more and more open with this person even though you both know it’s only for the sex. No emotional attachments. Just the shag. With time you actually start having real conversations that do not involve sex. You get to know who the other person really is, and you just love the CFA’s personality. You share a laugh and you even find yourself calling her once in a while “just to say wsup.” You realize that within no time, you’ve fallen for the CFA!

But how couldn’t you? I mean, you obviously were attracted to CFA (that’s how the whole strokes arrangement thing started out in the first place, innit?) Someone whose face was the first thing you saw for many a morning, someone who you felt so free and open with, without the hustles of a relationship like the CFA getting pissed off when you decide to spend Saturday afternoon with your boys watching Premier League instead of spending time with her. Someone whose morning breath you even got used to and you could chat with for an hour in bed before the thought of brushing your teeth even crossed your mind! (ok now that’s just plain gross!)

It’s inevitable! Repeated sex leads to emotional attachment! At some point you’ll realize that the person actually means more to you than just the raw animal sex and porn movie stunts that you’re not afraid to try out with them. But you can’t let CFA know how you feel, coz that’s why she’s your CFA in the first place. There’s a reason why the two of you can’t be together and the last thing she needs is to know that her CFA’s fallen for her! So you play it cool. The sex becomes more passionate (on your part!) and you hope that she’ll get the point. The language of sex.

YOU WILL FALL FOR YOUR CFA EVENTUALLY!! 90% of the time! Show me one person who’s had a successful long term strokes arrangement and didn’t fall for the other person and I’ll show you a first class liar!

Then one day when you thought everything was going ok (guaranteed shag at the touch of her assigned speed-dial number) the CFA decides to spring the mother of all shocks on your black ass and pulls a disappearing act on you. You’ve been declared persona non grata, bila explanation!! After all, what made you think you deserved one? You were just a mere side-dish! Whoever heard of a side-dish having any rights?

You stare at your phone hoping it will ring but....naatsing! (Nothing!) You remember how at the heat of passion CFA used to wika to her ancestors and say you’re the best lay she ever had, and you hope that it still counts for something.,, but... naatsing! You attempt to call her but she doesn’t answer. Mteja hapatikani. You even call her on private number but she ignores the call coz she knows it’s you!

Get the point idiot, It’s over!

Ok so now you’ve been left high and dry and discarded like a used tampon. Coz probably that’s all you were to her, just a tool to get the job done. You find yourself back on the bilaz train, tena huko nyuma in third class on the wooden seats and found that someone was so kind as to keep your seat warm coz they knew for a fact that you’d be back sooner or later. (boy don’t I just love jacking KBW lingo?)

What next?

Heartbreak. Hangovers. Blog posts such as this! You swear you’ll never have a CFA EVER again. Never heeeva! Yeah, that’s what you said when you flunked the last major exams “I’ll never do last minute studying again!” but you still do. And you still flunk. Jinga!

The question is, what ARE the rules for having a successful long term CFA? Are there any rules? Or are we just lying to ourselves that the concept of a “successful” CFA even exists in the first place?

Some of the best relationships are based on lies and deceit, coz eventually that’s where they all end up anyway.

A.O.B

It's just occured to me that I've been writing my posts in BOLD! Poleni sana. Ni ushamba. Still getting used to this stuff so mistakes do happen occasionally!

2006-05-17T10:24:00.000+03:00

FARE THEE WELL O GOONERS!

The big day is here! Finally! The UEFA Champions League final 2006! And who would have guessed that Arsenal aka the Gooners of all people would find themselves here? It all just sounds like a bad dream, doesn’t it? The way these useless gooner fans (who only wear their jerseys the day after a big game, and never during the game itself! Shameless cowards!) have been chest thumping ati “we’ll twanga Barcelona”....twanga WHO?! Barca? Y’all insane or what?

Let’s be realistic here. My boys Chelsea FC went all out (last season that is) with undoubtedly the best defence in Europe and the best keeper in Petr Cech. But even that was not enough to prevent the toothy-grinned Ronaldinho from giving instant salsa lessons to kina Gallas and Terry before thoroughly embarrassing Petr Cech with that shot from the edge of the penalty area!

However much Chelsea fans (true fans and opportunists alike) may have been on cloud 9 the last 2 seasons, we (with the exception of Jose Mourinho) do know a good thrashing when we receive one! And Barca dispatches such treatment with reckless abandon!

So what makes the gooners believe that they have the depth and quality that it takes to beat Barcelona tonight? What with all the toiz who can’t receive a decent tackle without running crying to baba Wenger? What makes their defence any better than the benchmark (Chelsea FC)? What makes Lehmann any better than Petr Cech? NOTHING!!

Tonight I predict a thorough thrashing at the hands of Ronaldinho, Eto’o, Deco et al followed by a trophyless and Henry-less entrance into Ashburton Grove next season. With the potential loss of Theuri Henry, Pires and Ashley (haha! Ashley!) Cole, I wonder who they’ll have for a captain! Sol Campbell? Senderos perhaps?

But Arsenal are known to win major finals (read F.A Cup) by penalties so in the unlikely event that they somehow manage to hold back the Barca onslaught and head into penalties, woi njisas! It’s over!

2006-05-11T14:08:00.000+03:00

SOCIETY

I have a lot of beef with this thing called society. What is society?

The Collins dictionary describes society as
1. Those with whom one has companionship,
2. The totality of social relationships among organized groups of human beings.

In my own words I’d describe it as a group of people in some form of association with one another sharing a common collective mind-set. (way of thinking) Several aspects of this mind-set are acquired from the previous generation and many aspects will be passed on to later generations.

Society sets its own unwritten code or rules over time and its members are expected to conform to these rules, and anyone who decides to be kichwa ngumu and does his own thing sticks out like a sore thumb and soon becomes the subject of societal ridicule or criticism.

An example is when Wambui Otieno married that ka-young dude, think his name was Mbugua. Days later there were joke sms’es doing the rounds ati Man Mbuguss died during the honeymoon and autopsy reports confirmed that he died as a result of consuming expired breast milk! Before we dis them, we have to consider that maybe, just maybe, despite the big age difference, there was true love up in there after all. Si they’ve been married three years now? OK maybe Man Mbuguss iss kamuaring some fresh milk elsewhere else...but that’s beside the point!

Maybe the Wambui-Mbuguss union may not have been a fitting example, but I hope you at least get the basic idea that if someone does something that’s contrary to the expectations of “society”, they instantly become the target of criticism.

So, who does society consist of? The typical answer to that is me and you. WE make up society. Ok, acceptable.

Who defines society? Who gives society the right to dictate to me how I should dress, who I should or should not date, who I may or may not associate with? Who gives this society creature the right to judge and label me however it sees fit nipende nisipende?

Should I always conform to the expectations of society without question coz I know the consequences of non-conformity? Should I limit myself to the box that has been set by society?

I think society is too quick to judge and label people who do not fit the status quo without making an effort to understand why they do the things they do. If one decides to date a white perosn, he or she is labelled an opportunist and a sellout. (Ati you think black ain’t good enough for you?)

If one dresses differently (of course differently is quite relative!!) then he/she’s labeled a wannabe.

If someone has a twang, a real one, not those forced ones (read Caroline Mutiko & Laura Walubengo) then they’re labelled wannabe’s.

If someone acts kidogo strange then he’s labelled a psycho, a mwenda and very soon quickly contrived urban myths will sprout up all over the place.

If one associates with certain people “he normally wouldn’t associate with” it becomes “what’chu doing with those barbies, ama can’t you stick to people of your own economic status?

If a chic has had three failed relationships (which were intimate...yaani sexual) in rapid succession, then she’s labelled a ho.

Why can’t chics date younger guys without being labelled sugar mummies?

Is this right?

I don’t judge others. Well...actually I do, secretly, but hey! It’s just my opinion, I’m a keep it to myself, you go ahead and do your thing as long as it you’re doing it for you and it makes you happy! That’s the bottom line! In the end, if it works for you, good! I’m happy for you. Baas. Tuendelee na maisha.

I’ve had my fair share of unfair judgment and ostracism in the past and it’s got to a point where I think to myself “just shut the f*** up coz you know jack shit about me”! I live my life for me!

Opinions are like arseholes, everyone’s got one. Just keep yours to yourself.

So what does it take to change the mind-set of a given society? I mean changing an entire society’s view on a given issue? The judging and labelling part happens so quickly, shouldn’t the evolution of a society’s view of things happen equally as rapidly? Or just a bit faster than it does now?

An example in Kenya is mixed-race relationships. Everyone looks at you with those eyes that just scream Opportunist! Malaya! Sellout! Wannabe! Pretender! Few people care where you two met and what drew you guys together. What will it take for people to stop judging people in mixed-race relationships?

What will it take to make Kenyans change their view on gay guys? You and I both know that there are several gay peeps out there and they feel the need to be accepted and not ostracized. Kenyans are a generally homophobic people, I can understand this coz it’s a strange concept to us. But I have a couple of gay Kenyan pals who you’d never tell are gay! I didn’t even know one dude was gay for like a year until someone told me!! The knowledge that he’s gay didn’t change my opinion of him though. I’d still hang out with him over my straight pals.

So what do y’all out there think? Hit me back with them replies, and thank you for reading my first post!

Finally!

2006-05-10T21:57:00.001+03:00

FINALLY!! Coz of this really slow internet access, it's taken me three days to set up this blog, when it should have taken not more than 15 minutes if I had a faster connection. Ok that's done now, I'm excited to finally have my own blog now. Stay tuned, first post coming soon. Hii ni ile ya "testing 1...2...3"!!