Just-A-Band....

Just-A-Band ...If you haven't already , then you surely need to check out these guys. Amazing stuff! Kenyans doing their thing!
http://www.just-a-band.com
http://www.just-a-band.com/blog/index.php

They've just come out with an album called Scratch to Reveal ,as you'll see on their site and blog. Buy it, buy it, buy it!
Here is a sample of their work. Enjoy!

Iwinyo Piny-Just-A-Band

Lalalala -Manjeru Produced by Just-A-Band

Fly-Just-A-Band

Maisha-Mena (Remix) Produced by Just-A-Bnad

Today at church the speaker spoke of a trip she made to the Sinai peninsula last year. Their guide was a man called Howard. 'Oward (as he was known) is a Bedouin. Interesting.How many Bedouins are there ,out there , called Howard? He may have changed his name for their benefit though, for ease of pronunciation(or whatever). In fact quite a large number of Chinese people adopt English names on arrival in Britain, which at first I thought was weird...but thats a post for another day.
So 'Oward it was.
'Oward knew the desert not only like the back of his hand, but like a hungry mono in a kitchen after 3 months of playing beast of burden. (Mono=usually male, Kenyan, Form1 student)
He carried with him a kettle. Just a kettle, no prayer mat, no book of wise sayings, no insence , no trusty goat or stallion. As far as I know, the kettle is all that went with him as he led these people across the space.I could not help but draw on a little African romanticism as I thought of what life was like for 'Oward

...Bedouin, flowing robe, trudging in the distance, his gait strong and sure , the sands rise and fall, cover- uncover his being..here one minute gone the next ...

About a month ago I watched a program basically about a guy who was traveling within the middle east, mostly Israel, sampling their cuisine. He also got to do a little reporting: checked out the orthodox Jews , the eastern European influences, the metropolis of Tel Aviv and the urbane who felt zero for kosher lifestyles ,the Muslim quarter, up and down to hinterlands and remote areas, to rural kibbutz's ,to people suffering the Israeli occupation or the zeal of fundamentalists....and so on it went. At some point in their filming they end up at a Bedouin household.These Bedouins owned a Datsun.
'Oward used his kettle to make infusions of certain weeds he found along the way.
Bearded Bedouin with a kettle.
I'm going to try and make that into a slogan someday.

In other news, whats with being chunky in all the wrong places...hmph!
And in even more threateningly profound news,is the question of love: how to give it, how to receive it? Theres great joy in opening up our lives to others.I know this, I know this.Yet...I tend to have a few issues in this department. Issues that generally grate against my desire to love or be loved. I've got big lessons to learn...but I know where I want to end up:)
on a similar but different note:Im getting the love munchies again...I should probably stay away from Romcom's for a while.

Africa what’s your story,

Where is your king,

Where is your glory,

A land so rich yet torn,

So filled with laughter and scorn,

Watoto wanavimbwa na hasira,

Upo enzini, huku kimya,

Teleza, teleza,

Jirani anauliwa,

We stand and heave a sigh.

I'm a witness,we're grinning,

The world is spinning, ooooh , we’re winning!

With no surprise , we shield our eyes,

No peeks...black dye...

My guilt, it will suffice.

The veil is cast, a reminder of our past,

I thrust shame under a blanket of dust,

Only burning coal, those millions of souls,

Covered now them with hope we stole,

Dreams we buried, lies foretold.

I must! I must! says my cynical child,

Stand and heave my sigh.

Africa what’s your story,

Where is your king,

Where is your glory,

Who will remove the stain,

These narcotics, what shots of pain,

You raise your fist seeking revolution,

But what of your heart ,

When does it beat with resolution

Teleza, teleza,

Matatizo huongezeka.

Why stand and heave a sigh.

come one and all...

This may be a departure from my regular content, but I just had to get the word out!
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If you want to be added to their mailing list email mail@bikes-kaishakenya.com
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Art matters...?

My sister sometimes describes me as artsy. But she's my sister, bias is encouraged. A friend of mine describes herself as and artist trapped in the mind/body of a scientist (or was it the other way round) ...
Anyway, sometimes I do wonder about being 'artistic'. You see I can spend inordinate amounts of time drawing things and writing random things (I even have a blog) . I love cloth and colour and African crafts and I love singing and designing things and looking at pictures and taking them and I can spend hours walking around Nairobi in my mind sourcing my imaginary shop...the list could go on till tomorrow! But I've never really known if I was someone who could be called to use any one of these interests for others; they were mostly just for my own entertainment.
Funny thing is, I'm surrounded by many artsy, gifted people. Obviously after spending time with them, comparisons roll in and I find myself asking God if these are really gifts or if he was giving me his own version of a 'teaser/taster' . Ill comparison sucketh , wivu ni mbaya and God is no joke!So I need to try and find out what exactly he has put into my tool box , find out how I can use the few 'almost skills' that I do have.But then again, if I followed up on every little thing that I am interested in,I'd be a basket case...school , career, family, friends...maybe this is why our brains need more than 5 neurons. Sigh.

Anyway, I'm going to start with drawing. I've always loved to draw. Usually when I don't want to think, I draw, A little here, kidogo there, nothing too fancy. But now, its dawning on me that I might need to draw (no pun intended) on this resource a little more in the future. Which means I have to step out of my box, out of my comfort zone and just put my stuff out there in faith. Faith that I'll be refined by the criticism , encouragement etc etc or at worst, that maybe this isn't my thing.Then I'll turn around and set off towards the sunset in search of another dream.

As with most things, I tend not to finish my drawings...so heres a number of the unfinished ones.Just to give you an idea of ..I dont know what of. I've used chalk , charcoal, acrylics, pencil, biro... errrm, yeah I think thats it.What I hope to now do is to really work, properly, on one piece a month which I'll put onto this my space.So feel free to comment, criticize, give ideas.
heh!As in a complete piece...God knows where I'll fit in the time. But I will

hmmm

'In rural Madagascar access to market centers has been restricted by lack of roads , and the government has had few resources for road building or maintenance. With assistance from international donors the government has developed partnerships with local community organization and commercial road construction firms to create and maintain hundreds of kilometers of rural roads . In the Partnerships , private firms construct roads and instruct the community in their maintenance ; the government authorizes the communities to collect tolls from road users ; and the community maintains the roads with their own labour and funds from the tolls . The partnership utilizes the comparative advantages of the different parties to produce gains for all of them'

This was written around 1998...wonder how it turned out....seems like a good idea...wonder what it would take to launch such an initiative at home.....hmmm

BATHING!

Everyone has their bath time routine. Where you hang your towel, where you discard your clothes, where you put your soap, how hot you like the water, how high the shower head should be, window closed, window open...and so on, and so forth right?So when you're sharing a house with 4 others, theres bound to be some turf wars. I'm currently engaged in a battle that I must win! You see, one of my house mates, she moves my sponge from where I like it; on my side of the cabinet.After which she (bless her) then proceeds to put it on the top of the cabinet where I'm pretty sure all manner of nastiness reside, seeing as it one of those forgotten places that people just never seem to clean.

She moves it, I move it back.
Because when I think about it logically, I end up asking myself, 'Why is she touching my loofah anyway!? She has no right to move it, it is my property, I have paid rent in this house and therefore I'm at liberty to place it where I want,within the inchage accorded me on my side of the shelf!' C'est tres bizarre but actually quite funny. We are sensible adults you know, but something tells me that none of us is going to bring it up. So, a luta continua ama sio?Maybe, I'm enjoying it...No.

Anyway, back to bathing.I've constructed a scale. This scale depicts the number of times people bathe in the house. On the extreme right is roomate X, who bathes twice a day.That's pretty normal. At the other extreme , is roomate Y, who bathes every two or three days (Yeah, I know).Now, I've tried stopping myself, but whenever I'm in roomates Y's presence I sniff, cause I just find it amazing. How come she doesn't smell!!

Then I wonder...and I wonder many things.

I never realized how much I don't like writing essays!! Writing for me is more enjoyable when I don't have to bother backing up what I say. Maybe this is why I blog and bother my friends with long emails basically about nothing.
I guess sometimes what is needed is an escape from always having to prove something. This is why I'll probably never be an academic or politician (not like Kenyan politicians ever use facts) or some sort of journalist, no no. Although I did have my hopes and you never know...I was telling my friend the other day that I should become a relationship consultant...she laughed!
Anyway, so I'm reading a paper on Global civil society and theres an interesting bit about a mister known as Hegel. It is said that this dude believed war kept society healthy...

'just as the movement of the ocean prevents the corruption which would be the result of perpetual calm, so by war people escape the corruption which would be occasioned by continuous or eternal peace'

waaaaaah!

Makes you wonder how he arrived at such a statement!And which dissidents ,run with it. Makes me wonder where words and ideas that I let float around carelessly could lead me or others ....as inconsequential as they seem.

Anyway, it is now 0013hours....

I'm A Woman

fashionista!
That word eh...
I need to vent just a little bit

Its probably no wonder that I came across the quote I mentioned in my previous post. God was trying to keep me focused.

But people keep asking me why I don't wear enough makeup;I remember with fondness the days when Vaseline on the lips was enough of a fashion statement. Other ones ask me whether I've lost weight,If I'm planning on losing weight,whether I'm on weight watchers?What about the number of times I've been told I look mature, which I usually take as a compliment until the question dawns on me, aged mature or deep mature, sijui?I'm wondering when my friends started looking like they we're on their way to a photo shoot all the time, infact some have gone all the way and even gone for the photoshoot!;wondering why that guy who was behind me in school gives a weekly commentary on the do's and don'ts of accessorizing and says that if I'm a proper woman I ought to have more bags than he does!That women around me seem to know where that shade of eyeshadow should go , while I'm struggling to guide the eyepencil around and not into my eye(ouch); that all these people seem to have resources that I don't know about cause I cant figure out how you can save and still pay for makeup, accessories, shoes....food, music,books, bills .....maaaaaeeeeen!

Its giving me a complex, this pressure to conform!

Maybe I'm just not creative...but that would be a blow my ego would not willing to take right now.

So I'm strong. I refuse to care!
But the things is I do...just a little, tiny, ok maybe closer to medium, bit.

Sometimes, especially in this society, it feels like theres a grumpy judge standing over me with a small kijiti ready to rap me over the knuckles for committing my weekly fashion faux pas. Its hard being a grown up woman in this century, especially if you don't fit into the mould that society so willingly proffers. I don't feel like I do and I'm only 22. So now what?!

I fully understand that women have to make an effort and I've got nothing against looking good.They say that our generation might be the best looking yet...hahaha.
Anyway, in a way it bugs me that I've spent valuable time and space typing up a post that is basically about looks . It makes me feel so vain (Hanging head in shame, blush creeping up neck)but its just that the reason behind why we should bother, seems to escape me from time to time, especially in the face of blasts of wind, temperatures of 6 degrees and the fact that good clothes cost nothing below £10 (and sometimes thats the cost of a vest).
Theres more to life than how we look and I can only be me, but the pressure is still there, gnawing away into the hidden bits at the back of my brain.

I'm a womaaaan...W.O.M.A.N tralalalala

“Beauty connotes humanity. We call a natural object beautiful because we see that its form expresses fitness, the perfect fulfillment of function.”

Theodore Cook

very random

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See. Hear.Do

Voice.

Kenyans are talking, texting, facebooking, emailing,blogging, writing, singing, saying....

And whats it all about; change,inspiration, despair, doubt, anger , name it.

At the end of the day, whether they realize it or not,time has been spent on the desire to be heard and you know what, its great!After all, let them who have ears listen right?

Well, I'm feeling kind of frustrated, cause I'm wondering whose being helped by all this debate? If at the end of all this we remain with just rhetoric , rhetoric unlikely to reach the ears or grasp the hearts of those whom it is a) about or b)for, then whats the point.
I'm afraid that something else will come along that really gets our gut and guess what we'll start talking, texting, blogging about something else.To reiterate someones point Kenyans , especially middle class, cosmopolitan, urban...seem to have a selective episodic memory.

See. Hear. Do.

I keep wondering whether debate amongst people of like mind will get us anywhere? If it's a safe way of saying that you tried. I wonder what value would him who is hungry, maimed , in hiding, isolated, alone, without; what value they place on what we are saying.
I know words are weapons for change, but with all my heart I believe they are not enough. Even the most prolific commentator lives in a world where he will have to put his pen down and engage with the society within which he is born and lives. I know some of you may disagree. For some , they are at a loss ,what else can they do?(Insert sigh and shrug here) Others may even say, that by writing you will inspire others to action, but I don't think we should settle.

I'm not saying that political analysis doesn't have its place but Kenya is going to need a whole lot more than that...I hope you get what I'm saying.By all means use your words to make your contribution, but also use your other gifts, your time, your food, your car, your money, your art, your business acumen, your strength, wisdom, to interact with those who are affected, hopefully directly if possible.Think about what you can do and then pray about it and then act in faith, Ama?

In other news, who knows if a music library ,physical or virtual, can work in Nairobi?

I hope..

'humpty dumpty sat on the wall , humpty dumpty had a great fall'

Sigh... I'm not going to bother dissecting the rhyme. What I'm wondering is why it jumped into my mind when I decided to let myself think of the events of last week.I understate when I say it was not the best of weeks for some.
Its interesting though, the way some of us remain chronically hopeful. Am I one such woman?I'd like to believe that I am,although the range of emotions I experienced last week might say different. Given the realities of this life we need infusions of hope to face whatever tedium comes our way,right?

heh, being far from home is hard. Last week I wanted to be home.

Obviously some people may have thought I was a tad irrational. Ati going home when danger literally hung in the air? Others may have thought I was a melodramatic little thrill seeker, you know getting done with my mid life crisis at 22. Whatever it was ,guess what, I still wanted to be home.Being away , apart from the usual bouts of homesickness around this season(which I will not admit to suffering to;) just didn't feel right.
It felt like I was living in some parallel universe....or three. In one, people were being killed and... you know the rest of the sad story.In another people were ok as long as they stayed home or hung out in the right places .Then there was me ,far far away going ice skating for the first time and trying to read up on inane topics like globalization.
Sometimes I didn't know whether to cry or be calm or if I was being alarmist,whether I was feeling enough grief or perhaps too much, was I praying enough,worried enough or too much ....it was just hard figuring what God wanted me to think let alone do. I felt numbish and thought that being home, may have put things in perspective just a bit. Maybe I'm wrong.

The words of the national anthem struck me more than ever today and so, yeah, I remain hopeful,tentative as it may seem. We'll get through this, by the grace of God. As for the scars,I pray we'll all play our part in helping them heal.

Many blessings this new year to you!

Oh, I must write about that ice skating event...twas one for the books!I became mildly 'aerodynamic' for the first time in my life and if that wasnt enough I couldn't keep my mouth shut as I went down; I refer here to those niggling Kenyan expressions of ours (woi, oowi, ai ai, ach...etc an exclamation mark behind every one) . Too funny!
I think my body has reached a new level of hard-oreness though, woop, woop! even though it meant I couldn't stretch for like four days...I guess thats what falling 17 times does to you huh.

this and that

gawsh...blogger still works!
otherwise....
I'ts 11pm and I'm putting off work thats terribly important because...because...because, this is the logic that prevails in my person at this time of night or (cough)most of the time.
random thoughts floating around in my head...
-i think bobby womack isnt too bad!quite groovy. My friend on the other hand is going to a 'jimmy eat world concert'..
who?!or am I being too narrow minded, I give you permission to try and convince me otherwise.
-what do you do when a friend of yours, says(not in your hearing) that they have no friends?im one of those people who begins doing a mild audit of their relationships just to see how much i've been misperforming and then i feel...saddish. but then again i shouldnt be writing about sad stuff after not blogging for so long ,now should i?
-i baked today!wohooo!I used to bake long time ago and made some really nice cakes, then i got it into my head that I had become chef miss gastronome and so threw out all my recipes and decided to get innovative.
the next three years of my baking history are censored!;)
anyway, so ive been seeing people making loads of money from cake businesses. last weekend i was in london and saw some other baked gadgets!!!salalala!they were to be admired!so today, i felt inspired and decided to bake and im glad to say it worked out.now i have to try something a little harder.
please say you'll buy my cakes even if they suck? after all what is good business about? you know ,building self-esteem and empires and all that....
-feelings can be funny things, and pining over things lost never helped anyone!but it still sucks!
-i want to do something great!hmmm but maybe ive just been watching too much heroes....

hmmm,.....I've been away!
That might even be a mild understatement.

So today, I thought that in the spirit of good manners ,I would write something on my blog,see if I've missed it and also to say hi to you peeps.Yes, all of you there in cyberspace.I'm sure I've missed a lot on some of your blogs.
Now, where to start.heh, so much has happened since I last wrote, top of the list being that immediately after I wrote about 'why I blog', I seemed to lose my desire to do so . So I took a 'break'....went on a pilgrimage ,to find my blog purpose.
Actually no, (cough)I just went on holiday, came home, met a grand total of 2 bloggers ;),celebrated a birthday, had number of new experiences, chekad a whole lot ,among many other things and now.... I'm in Uganda.

All in all, Mungu yu mwema...yay!
So until we meet again....

SOS

My bed is falling apart! All its legs are kaput, and it tends to swing from side to side .So when time for bed fikas, its all about finesse.No somersaulting into the bed nowadays…sigh. The landlord knows about these my tribulations lakini he is procrastination incarnate and so won’t do jack until we leave. Plus there are like 50 other things he has to fix in the house, so what’s a bed!Anyway…

So why I blog…ma broda methu , he tag me o’!

Tangent: Have any of you ever used the line…
‘So, (ahem, cough)..what are you wearing ?’
-It’s usually delivered hukooo at some dubious hour of the night, usually on a phone or other technological gadget.

Well, I have been told this line like twice before and I gagged both times, even though it was a pal just trying to wind me up. Anyway apart from it being the wackest line on earth, It cracks me up sana! I mean surely what kind of a question is that. Anyway, even if I answered, a boy would be in for a rude shock, cause the haute couture reigning in my palace is …(drums please, ata those Chinese cymbals)
….an orange sweater, luminous green pants and lilac bedroom sleepers…oh pink socks too. I speak the truth. I’ll bandika the purple headscarf in a few minutes.
Comfort must always come first.
I think sometimes my British housemate really shangaaz.

Anyway, why I blog
Eh…

1. Why not? plus internet is available and fast, I need to make good use of it. I actually pay £5 a month for unlimited wireless access. Brilliant speeds. But I digress ( or is it brag)

2. Because I like playing with words and I think I could have a good laugh one day when I look back and see some of the nonsense I wrote. Plus I suck at keeping a journal.... Yes, I have failed as a woman.So this is my attempt at trying to get ‘with it’.

3. Mehn!people are interesting! this world of blog has really opened my eyes. Many of your blog’s have been a source of inspiration and have challenged me. You wouldn’t believe what deep and meaningful lessons I encounter when…bla bla bla.
sorry had to stop there, was getting too mushy, but in summary I’m learning stuff and have ‘met’ interesting people. Oh, and I laugh a lot. I love laughing. Some of you are very funny.

4. Aish, I haven’t reached five…urrrm, freedom of speech. I can ramble and dot, and the best bit , I can do it bila direct censure. Anonymity people, the best thing since sliced bread.(Ive never gotten that, sliced bread?!)

5. …clearly I cant think of another reason…so lets put it this way, nos 5 is still under construction.

Goodnight world.

Now look!

I’ve been tagged! Courtesy of egm and so there’s mild excitement in the brain. However, how to go about finding revelations is the question.
Eh let's see...

1. I’m the 6th born in a family of 7 kids, 4 years younger than my bro and 8 years older than my small sis. I still wonder what type of family planning strategy that was. Anywho, I was a cute baby; cheeks were round, skin soft, nywele’s timam, eyes gleaming and full of depth etc, etc! Infact, I dare say that if parents magazine had known of my existence they would have paid me the big bucks!
Obviously I’m still wondering what happened. I bask in the reflection of that former glory.
Do you think I can make money pimpin my baby pictures?

2. I’m not a party-throwing-type of gial! I used to get extremely uncomfortable when I was told to entertain. The thought still fills me with mild panic, but I’m getting better. My social skills must be improving…(hehehe, yeah) So maybe by the time I’m 25, I’ll feel able...and thus throw a small something. A food and drink festival! si that would keep Kenyans busy;)less work for me in the entertaining department.

3. I’ve never been ‘in love’ and generally find myself wondering about this concept.

4. I have an overactive imagination. Overactive! Oh, and have good guessing strategies. As for whether this has been an asset or not, it has helped me in the best of times and set me up for a fall during the worst.

5. I get urges to dance lingala, traditional vibes and ballet, at random, in the midnight hour. And so I do. I get up and do an uncoordinated jig! Then go to bed quite thrilled with myself, stating for like the 10th time. ‘Who knew you could kick that high'. In this vein let me state, I have many secret ambitions.

6. I’m deeply passionate about many things but have been told that it’s hard to tell. Because these passions are so many, I find that my knowledge in any one of them is constrained...I’m trying to change this. Ah, and since we're talking about passions, in the emotional area, I tend to feel deeply and have strong convictions, but by the time they actually fika that 'strong' or conspicuous stage....it’s taken quite a while.

7. I (used to) fear dogs. Now my dad has always had this love affair with the species, in that he would go and buy bones and other doggy paraphernalia for them. There were days I think I resented them canines, here I was being nyimwad something I wanted yet a dog was getting choice bones...I didn’t get it! Anyway, in Freudian terms, that resentment manifested itself in extreme fear of them. I’ve literally scaled walls and roofs as I tried to escape them. Such episodes have only reaffirmed to me that I must have a super power! I must! Anyway, so my dad decided to chuck the fear by force. I was given the task of feeding the beasts. AUUUU! Twas a task. But I live.
You should hear me now when I’m fukuzaing them, gawsh, I sound, like, so commanding! If I do say so myself.

Baaas, we’ve reached 7. Infact I think I've even given bonus info.I tend to ramble. shucks, you see there I go again,sigh, lets make that number 7.5.
Now who to tag. Is there anyone left. If you’ve been tagged already sameheni…kayliz, odegle nyang, majonzi, prou , aizoh,
now I need to go back into hibernation.

what!

walala!wonders never cease!ive really chekad!talk about dedication. shes made my day!

what would a kenyan do?(hypothetically)

You’re a mute. One day as you’re minding you’re business, you see a run-away trolley with five people aboard hurtling down a track leading to a cliff. You can see their tiny faces squeezed up against the window. Eyes round, mouths open in silent screams, hands frantically waving, tears streaming....you can smell their fear.
Nooooooo!you say!(or rather you think, remember, youre a mute)
Surprise ,surprise! You’re standing next to a switch that will shunt the trolley onto another track where it will stop safely. Without your intervention these people will soon die, but today of all days, Nairobi City Council felt duty bound to send a one man mission with a packet of cement ,a jembe and a torch to go carry out necessary repairs on the track. This man was now standing on that other track totally engrossed in chimbaing some hole and thinking about how he was going to explain to his wife that he sold another one of their daughters. He had promised not to .And to top it off to a man from another tribe!! But in his defense, this one was rich and was'nt as smelly as the others, and he'd gone to the mganga for some juju-busting fluid that would definitley ward off any bad spirits that might come from the union.
This man will be killed if you throw the switch.
You have 5 seconds..... Watch the trolley go off the cliff or throw the switch?

OR

You’re a street youth(i.e chokora) and a mute and you have'nt had a meal in yonks! Word on the street is that they're dishing out free food at a mission church in town. You get there as quick as you can, enter the line and eagerly lick youre chapped lips in anticipation of the few bits of ugali and sukuma that are about to come youre way.Your stomach cramps as you wait and this time you welcome it, knowing that for a few hours,your gastric juices will be replete. Just when you get to the top of the line a shout rings out!
'chakula imeisha, chakula imeisha, nendeni nyumbani'
In one minute, the mission workers have packed up all the sufurias, stuffed them into boxes, doused the area with dettol and doom and cleaned up all traces of food!(and when I say all I mean all!)The compound is left gleaming! They scurry off leaving you standing there mdomo wazi ,you're heart breaking cause for real, you can't even spot a crumb!Another stomach cramp is descending.
Five minutes or so later, you see the head officer of the mission pack ugali and sukuma into a plastic container, enough to have fed you for two weeks!He looks up and finds you staring, cracks a smile , winks, and then takes a big bite of ugali and squeezes himself into his car. He drives off and you're left there eating his dust.Literally! That sukuma could have been yours.....you see red!
So that evening , before darkness falls and as you're hunting for a place to sleep, you see a trolley hurtling to its doom .i.e towards a cliff.
Note:this time there’s no switch to shunt it to another track.
Instead you’re standing on a bridge over the track. A morbidly obese man is standing there too, a few yards away from you. You suddenly recognize him. It's the ugali stealing,mean winking, sukuma munching fool!the head officer of the mission!unamjua!
The laws of physics operating in that moment state that if you give him a push his body will fall on the track and stop the trolley. You’re too small and so can't stop the trolley on your own, so there’s no point in sacrificing yourself. Theres no other large masses laying about.What do you do? you have like 30seconds or so....

infact which situation would you rather be in?hehehe...
Adapted from carlson.

One flew over the kukus nest...

Now at home the only time I actually encountered a mad man was in a jav on the way to Westlands. As usual since temperatures were huko stifling, I was sitting next to the window ,my blouse flapping in the breeze, my mind far away. So we made a stop and some guy enters , has a mild conversation with the conductor and then sits by me.At this point my mind is still meandering. Just when the daydreams are getting interesting e.g I've unleashed my super powers and…..I feel a nudge. So thinking it’s the conductor I look up about to tell him I already paid. Instead, my eyes gaze into the yellowish orbs of a middle aged guy…hmmm, actually they’re reddish, his eyes that is

Something else draws my attention though….my gaze falls…

So far my brain is computing, a lot of….eh, dirt, mangled hair, remnants of beard, a strange earthy smell wafting its way to my nostrils and something else that’s…that’s… unidentifiable. Something at the back of my brain keeps flashing water closet, but I ignore it. I continue looking, and further record, holes in shorts, no shoes, hairy/spindly legs.... then I look at the hands; long nails…(gulp),and somehow, I don’t know how, the smell intensifies.

Auuu!

Its poo poo!yeuuuukkk! Congealed stuff… all black now!

What causes me to panic is that this guy is now asking me for money…now I was somewhat naive at that point of my life and so instead of being intelligent about all this I think I shrugged and then panicked.

‘what if he has other stuff in his pocket, what if he gets aggressive, what if he grabs me….(oowii,moan, moan)’

I’m not sure what look flashed across my face, but it galvanized the conductor and he came to my rescue!yaaay!

Back to the present, last week I was at the library sitting, reading, thinking, wondering at why such a fine establishment still looked like it was stuck in the 1970’s, smelly carpet an all. My brain was overheating as it tends to do nowadays and I couldn’t help but wish that I was born in another era, where all I had to do was resign myself to washing clothes and baking bread…but that’s a story for another day.

Sigh, I did need to focus and as I looked down at the page once again all I could see was words. They looked pretty! Slippery s’s, erect l’s, staunch o's… HA! I lie! When things are in Times New Roman how exciting can they get surely. Clearly you can see I was pining for a distraction. Anywho, I heard some shuffling and so looked up. A man was joining me at my table. My first thought was that the whole purpose of me sitting at this spot was that I wanted to be alone bucko! Well I guess he didn’t know. He sits and at first everything seems fine. He mutters a few times but I don’t really pay attention. However(said like my std.5 GHC teacher)when he started talking real loud, I did begin to wonder…..

‘power….the yanks rock., what they need to do…..heheheh…hehehe, the sharks, they ate him…cool…heheh, what he doin in the wa-er… POWER! Those terrorists….mumble…fart arse you ‘ave!….making noise like.&^*$*%! mumble mumble…’

Note: he was reading the newspaper and scribbling all sorts of things across pictures and shouting randomly to people who made a little noise…

After all this he removed some food from a paper bag, acting like it was some covert operation and then proceeded to eat the food with enough sound effects to do Frank Miller proud!

So I sat there looking at this man and wondering how life was like for him. If he worried about life, if he dreamed, if he talked with God, how God replied, if he liked ice-cream....
There’s also another lady who I see at our bus stop ,posh British accent, dresses like a man and generally has quite the conversation with herself ,cracking quite a number of racist jokes and laughing at them the way I laugh at my dry jokes.(I really do laugh at my own jokes,its not sad!)
what’s life like for her?

Now, if western societies are anything to go by, we are definitely going to see a rise in psychopathologies and all that in Kenya. Do you think Kenyans are ready? No scratch that…would you be ready?

oh i forgot!MERRY EASTER EVERYONE! think about the good things that happened during this time!