WELCOME TO KIAMBU

Drum rolls***

Thanks to the government for making it classy…the move by the government to hike keg prices has elevated the drink into the class of kina Heineken. My hood (somewhere in Kenya’s Capital of Alcoholics, Kiambu) has witnessed great transformation owing to this increment. Pubs are slowly upgrading (not by standards but by name swaps) from pubs to restaurants/clubs. The only change evident is the change in prices of the only common drink sold, Keg’nekken!!! The 40baab mug is now going for a whooping 65baab but the barmaid will always tell you the she daent have the 5baab coin.”Si we ni customer, utapitia kesho tuangalie hio maneno” The goodness with such an enticement is that most Kiambu barmaids are really hot when HOT (High On Tots). Oh my, why do ‘we’ screw cows? Um, It’s coz when drunk, most cows tend to look more like Nyambura the barmaid! We always do it after a visit to the keg dens (now keg restaurant). I would also suggest to EABL/Keroche to upgrade Senator Keg to sum’n like Governor Keg!!! Still in Kiambu, most sufferers are now bargaining with coroners coz dying has become too expensive. Others are even resolving to pay in hire purchase (malipo ya polepole)

A day in the life of a Kenyan kegger!!!

Meet Jose the Complaining Kenyan; he wakes up to drink strong tea while complaining about the hiked milk prices, then ‘walks’ to Inda (aliokoka akaacha kupanda Umoineer). Later in the evening, he finds that keg prices have been hiked and thus resolves to his wife as the final resort of entertainment (‘Final’ coz ma’TV analogue zilizimwa plus units za stima pia zilipanda). Jose then impregnates Njoki the wife adding to his ‘fleet’ of 6 kids jus coz he heard that the gova had hiked the CD prices and there was alotta rumours about those offered for free (Gok). This pregnancy completes Jose’s vicious cycle of poverty. He grows poor as he ages. The law of direct proportionality. He then decides to Q-tac himself knowing that dying has also become too expensive!!!

That's wassup!!!
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MESSAGE TO CAMPUS LADIES

She sat there so dilapidated, time had flown so fast. A year, to her, was like half a minute. So minute a time. The other voices echoed in her cerebrum. Nyalego and Muthoni; her mum’s and her mother-in-law’s harsh voices battled. Both were becoming so impatient. And they talk a lot, quite a typical trait of the women who ‘graduated’ in the 70s. ‘Graduate’ used in the Afro context, getting married. The word would eventually spread like the bushfire caused by a careless hunter. They, she and her man, both knew that the truth would soon be exposed to the already curious world. Talk of hiding a secret from a group of cats. The man, Murima, was lucky and more or less at ease. He’s African. He only feigned his grief at least to lend a supporting hand to Akinyi, her love. Murima knew pretty well that if the pressure exceeded his limits, he will have to opt for a second option. Wife number two. This time round, he wouldn’t repeat his mistakes not unless he’s out to exhibit his gross stupidity to the world. I told you the world is watching.

She sat there so dilapidated, time had flown so fast- backwards this time. Akinyi remembered her heydays in campus. She had become tops in her deep rural school in Nyanza. She vividly remembers her journey, accompanied by Nyalego, aboard Mbukinya bus headed to Nairobi to join her university of choice. “Nyathina, som matek ikonywa dala…na uchunge maisa…hii ni Narobi”   These were her mum’s last words to her before she went to Gikomba to buy some goodies for her village friends en route Machakos Airport. Now back to Akinyi. She secured a hostel in school with a one Vivian aka Vivv aka the Nairobi chic. This created a two sided cloud. It was either Akinyi to turn Vivv into a humble rural chic or Vivv to turn Akinyi into a town girl. This is where the naïve ones fall prey. Definitely it’s Akinyi who fell prey of Vivv. She remembered her first party which was hosted by a prominent ‘dirty’ politician in some posh den in Hurlingham. Akinyi had joined Twitter by then and her tweets explained the feeling well iced up by her Jaluo nature. She met the who is who in the business world. Her doors were open and she created more space in her phonebook. The revelers there had noticed her naivety and she became a target. Here, she found sweeter Vodka than the Blue Moons she was used to with her broke campus dudes. No offence but to me, broke is relative. Anyway, the party got underway and so did the number of bottles she galloped. The problem with sweet liquor is that you don’t know when you are high enough. High enough? Hehe, if only ‘highness’ was measurable! The Tom the swinger approached her and blabbered some indistinct words into her intoxicated ears. Moments later, they excused themselves. Her naivety and intoxicated nature gave Tom an easy time in ‘chipoing’ her. Chipo is the new slang word for rape, that’s according to me (oh, and you too i.e. if we share the same sentiments)

She woke up the next morning in bed with Kibet. “Hey, who’s Kibet? Gai, huyu ametoka wapi? Where’s that Tom of a guy??” Kibet , on realizing the look on Akinyi’s face, quickly put on his clothes and rushed out. Moments later, Vivv came in as confused as Akinyi but Vivv was more used to such aftermaths. They both left and, as usual, passed via the chemist for some P2s. Even the chemist attendant knew Vivv very well. She would be heard, occasionally, asking Vivv “Nikupee zile zako ama leo utajaribu hizi mpya??” Yeah, that was Vivv and Akinyi was already in the overtaking lane; she was tired of following Vivv. The habit continues all through her campus life. Yes, she graduated with flying colors. She knew virtually all the bad lecturers plus her rich friends in the government influenced her STD (Sexually Transmitted Degree).

Years later, she met Murima. By now, she was regretting about her past life. It had hit her so hard. She really wanted to change. To settle down and correct her past mistakes. Murima was stealing suggestive glances and smiling at her amourously. But Akinyi was still sad. Very. Everybody else around them was sad. Saddened by the death of their friend. They even cried more as Vivv’s casket was lowered 6ft under. Murima had lost his workmate and Akinyi her old time friend. For a moment, Akinyi regretted ever meeting Vivv. Meeting her was more like inviting the virus into her life. Death. Vivv had died at an early age. May she rest in peace. Akinyi knew hers was knocking. Akinyi was a strong lady. She decided to accept and move on. Move on and get married. And Murima looked nice a husband to her. Time flew fast and they got married.

She sat there so dilapidated, time had flown so fast. She looked at the bloody knife on the floor. Blood oozed from her stomach. Things were now on slow motion mode- and irreversible too. The doctor had earlier confirmed her fears. She was HIV positive and the numerous emergency pills had made her barren. To her, she really had no reason to live. Who would? The pain was now unbearable, she decided to end it by farther jabbing herself in her chest. Her precision couldn’t have made her miss her heart. BLACK OUT.

“AKINYI THE AIDS AMBASSADOR COMMITS SUICIDE” read the dailies. I told you the world was watching!!!

@slitherbee

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The club scene

Several playing cards lie on the dirty floor, they tell precisely the mood in the house. Am adorned in a black God papa, a God papa that despite its age still possesses tales to tell. The Godfather was abandoned by the legendary Mijeledi boy. Ken is the type of person who you want to carry around when you are going into the club, he is smooth with words, inspires confidence and smart dressing is what he is known for. He seems to know what he is talking about even when the subject is foreign like a chick you know but meet with the Missus. Yet, despite all these positive attributes, the most important feature about him is that he is a team player. Trust me, for all who do not fathom, team work is virtually the most important need in the club, okey okey, after money. If one of the team player breaks out of the team, count it as an away defeat, you are all doomed. The mission is lost and the war ends in a defeat. Unlike Ken, Rasta man on the other hand is not known to hold these ideals of a team player close to heart; he often attacks as a lone ranger. He reloads with unimaginable ammunitions; several kingfishers and snapps . He is renowned in attacking unsuspecting civilians. His accuracy on the sniper rifle is however not known to be too impressive. He is a fanatic of the Darwin theory and is known to attack the weakest of the prey. Instead of using these agrarian tactics it is imperative to horde in as a force. Attacking as a team increases the chances of annihilating the opponent and their consequent submission. A team possesses the ability to reload with increased efficiency and range; they can also used special bullets like Jameson and sometimes Smirnoff when the pocket is not well lined. Further, attacking as a team increases the reload speed, after all the more the pockets the more the ‘big ones’ (thousands hehehe).  

In the creation of a formidable team, there is a need to have an enforcer. This is the psyche person, he often rumbles the words like ‘eiheiheieh what’s up, what’s up, what’s the plan’. This person should be tall and should be intimidating. He should always tread with his shoulders held high, and is in many cases the identifier of potential targets. He is the equivalent of a scout in the battle field. It is not necessary for the person to have big features, however, a bigger than usual head is always an added plus. Then there is the cavalry, this is where most Kenyans belong, these are the foot soldiers, their work is to approach after the signal and they do so in stealth manner. If they move in to quickly, the opponents might get startled and rattled and words such as ‘unataka nini, nangoja mtu’ might be heard in the deafening sound of ‘twenzetu’ in the background. The foot soldiers are responsible for the transportation of the ammunition from the bar fridges to the vulnerable stomachs of the opponents. So the next time that you’re in the club, take a more tactical position.

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