The Christmas Gift

This happened to me before Christmas. It has taken me slightly over a fortnight to overcome the frightful incidence. Writing about it is the only catharsis to these emetic doldrums, a price for an innocent's heart actuated to pursue happiness and bliss from a feminine creature.

It was a simple Facebook friend request. I could have ignored it and continued with my daily activities. She had a mutual friend. Something kept gnawing the depths of my brains. Was she of whom Kelly kept praising her effeminate beauty, a congenial lass whose countenance bore an elixir to a dry-balled like me?

I have few Facebook friends thanks to my old-fashioned beliefs of knowing persons you interact with in social medias. I scrutinized her photo and almost died with pleasure. She was indubitably an angel. So it came naturally that i accepted her friend request.

Binti Kazuri. A quick scan on her profile page revealed 60 friends, student at University of Nairobi, works at Gliuntelle Fashions.

She inboxed: Yu luk like a reasonable chap, mind coffee?

My heart exploded with desire. Reasonable? I wanted to tell her i was more than that; a man full of fervor, extreem doughty in principles and ethos, a certitude erudite with business acumen and power of gab despite my lean cadaverous body features.

Yes, i would meet her for coffee and show her all my qualities.She had added magnesium in my incendiary emotions. I could visualize her writings as dulcet tones caressing my ears and coaxing me to be complaisant with her every desire.

The day arrived and the appointed time crawled at a snail's pace as if taunting my impatience to meet Binti Kazuri. The whole day my mind was plagued with her pleasant impression of ivory complexion, dreamy eyes and a body pulsing with youth and vitality. This meeting was fate implied, i thought, cementing my belief that the acquaintanceship would produce something permanent, not transitory.

At exactly 1, I spend off from office at View Park towers to Nakumatt Lifestyle, the strategic meeting place as my heart pounded with the walls of my chest with inebriated vigor due to anticipation. I would be in black pants, blue shirt and brown suedes, i naturally lied.

Standing there for over ten minutes gave me jitters and the worst of probabilities attacked my timid mind. had she thought otherwise, ditched me without even meeting me or there was a passenger-jam? Time was ebbing so i whipped out my cell and called her. Then for the longest two-minutes of my whole life i survived a catatonic trance.

A lady...ok, a feminine creature next to me received the call and you can guess it right, she answered it.

Feminine creature: I've been here at Lifestyle for the past 10 minutes waiting for you...kwani uko wapi?

My tongue turned into a sand paper, no saliva to gel it, just an ugly catarrh blocking my wind-pipe. Was she the Binti Kazuri? Oh no, i groaned loudly and my bowels almost gave out with disappointment. For the first time i appreciated the power of blue-tooth gadgets. I tried all my best to act normal and discreetly return the cell back to the pocket but it was too late. She had seen me.

My heart literally bled with confusion. Before me stood the perfect contrast to an image on her wall-page in Facebook. I shook my head, pinched my nose and willed, strongly, for a sign or something, a miracle, anything to assure me that i was dreaming. 

Feminine Creature: John, here you are...(arms flaring wildly for a hug). It is not sensible to keep a lady waiting!

I groaned heavily. Then robotic-ally explained to her my pressed schedule at the office and desire to re-arrange the rendezvous. She was impressed with it. As i headed back to the office, still reeling with shock and disbelief, i blocked her number and eventually her FB profile.

                                                     

That's why, my dear friend, i usually have phobia for friend requests. Especially from ladies with very beautiful photos.

KENYA 2011: The Triumphs, The Disappointments

The year 2011 has flown just like that (snap of a finger). Grand plans hatched at the commencement of this year are yet to take place. heads have rolled, lives have been lost, dreams shattered, evil triumphed, marriages broken and hearts famished. Heads have been raised, lives edified, dreams achieved, evil shattered, marriages strengthened and hearts congenial.

All these defines the whole caboodle about a calendar year. lemme take you through a series of situations or persons that have made this year memorable in Kenya.

Mike Sonko
He is the crubby cutup this time, then the barmy convivial philanthropic politician the next time. The petty bourgeoisie view his blathers bellyful; the commoners are acquiesced with his brio. The enfant terrible youthful MP who has a knack of blings and asinine dumboism is a brand of comical relief whenever he appears in News, a change from the fatigue tales of daily corruption and ineptitude tribalistic diatribes emanating from politicians.

Roseline Nasimiyu
Newsmaker of the year. The young lass enraptured the country with her stoic determination to fight cancer. The doughty cancer ambassador hopeful catchet raised spirits of many in the same situation - or worse - and brought to light many of her kind who lack spotlight but have a story to tell. Her song 'I Believe' has graced many phones as ringtone and various radio stations countrywide.

Churchill Live
Perhaps the most popular television program in ages here in Kenya. Aired by NTV, Churchill Live is a comedy show by country's top comedians, Dan 'Churchill' Ndambuki and Eric Omondi. The show has nurtured the likes of Masanduku Junior (also JB), AKA, Fred Omondi et al to their proffesional careerism; a successful fete indeed. it has demystified the lifes of country's top-dogs andaccused of breaking the public's ribs on a weekly basis due to excessive humor.

Safaricom
The elephant with the greatest success in the country. It pays the country's Caesar in terms of US dollars. Although it has been forced to dance of late, Safaricom is still an apogee of business acumen-ship, entrepreneur-ship and determination.
Bob Colllymore, the company's honcho has changed the company's marketing strategy including a shift from output to outcomes, from value propositions to value conversations, from differentiated products to products making a difference, from value chains to value cycles, from competitive advantage to constructive advantage.
Their products are way above in terms of quality and innovation. say safaricom cloud and webbox.
Safaricom's advertisements makes others look like a child's play.
Finally their CSR is an envy to all other corporations in Eastern, central and Southern Africa.

Kenyans 4 Kenya
An adventitious project that saw fellow Kenyans and well-wishers contribute generously towards a kitty that would eradicate hunger in the country after the beleaguered government's dawdling. Hatched by the brilliances of Bob Collymore and Dr. Martin Oduor-Otieno the CEO of KCB Bank, Gina-Din Kariuki - the adept communicator, Jeff Koinange and strengthened by media personalities, artists and business moguls. Kenyans remembered they still posses one of the greatest personality gifts; that of generosity and love.

Francis Atwoli
A fervent civil society crusader whose government has received his flak. Cheat his people and his effusive protest will halt the country's economy if need be. The government has constantly been kept at toes with his castigation on food and fuel prices, salaries and corruption.

Alfred Mutua
Heheeeee...

Kenyan Army
Al Shabaab took the country into delirious  aggro after series of attacks and barbarism undermining our sovereignty. The Kenya Army, under the aegis of the president, has undertaken its priority to completely annihilate and bowdlerize these fiends inhuman in nature.

Nicole and Muturi
The Mucolegate saga took the country by storm one Friday morning, thanks to the fatuousness of the intelligent-dwarfs duo at Classic radio morning (and evening ) show. It got viral and frenzied the whole nation akin to Makmende, the country's hero.

Citizen TV
Perhaps the crux of media efficiency, Citizen TV undoubtedly has ruled in the game this year. The news-anchors are flashy, others fleshy. Their journalism is top-notch, their entertainment admirable and there game way up there (my hand is raised). I still remember when they were under-dogs, when news-readers (they couldn't have been anchors) would share oversize blazers and advertise laughable commercials eg Nyamakima butchery. Kudos!


Prof. Olive M. Mugenda
The Kenyatta University Vice-Chancellor, Board member of  Association of African Universities, Vice-President of International Association of Universities among other accolades, Mugenda is probably the beacon of success to the country and the world. She is rarely heard, nor known, but her works are been felt globally. She is an entrepreneur extraordinaire, transforming Kenyatta University into the most dazzling and envied institution of higher learning - socially, academically and economically.  The country is lucky to have such a brilliant personality in its vicinity.

Juliani
Julius Owino is arguably the most celebrated gospel artist for a long time coming.
Possessing an unmatched socio-political nous, beautifully tempered in spirituality, Juliani comes correct with an infectious message of religious, social and political emancipation, fresh and relevant in today's society. His sleek and unique lyrical flow, passionate delivery and electrifying performance have collectively and officially hailed him as "an important voice for our time" (Eric Wainaina).

Equity Bank
The bank of commoners has surpassed international-league banks from a micro-finance. It is the biggest in terms of customer base, accounting up to 57% of bank accounts in Kenya.

Politicians
The crop that enervates depression during news with their derogatory crud, escapades and nauseating brouhaha. Lemme list the different types of these kind:
The Hague 3
The underdogs - the likes of Jeremiah Kioni
The evince - Peter Kenneth and Raphael Tuju, he who of saseni argot.
The Bumptious -Cheran'gany MP
The Clandestine - Harun Mwau
The Congroscenti - Martha Karua, Ababu Namwamba and the likes
The Presidential Aspirants
The Speaker, the person who speaks
...and the rest

Jeff Koinange
He brought in a new style of broadcasting, a new way of presenting news, a new way of interviewing people. Capital Talk has graced people of all walks of life share a bench with Jeff and air out their views and bios in dramatic way. Jeff Koinange...what a man!

Prof. Wangari Mathai
Her death brought the country to global limelight and her cause was echoed all over the world...again. She was accorded a controversial state funeral, her body interred but her dreams thriving and effective.

Kenya Shilling
The Kenyan bob hit an all high of 107 to the US Dollar this year causing havoc and blame-game in the business world. Inflation is barbarically low with fuel and food prices astronomically high wallowing citizens in abject misery and walletically traumatic.

Kenyan Road Accidents
The country was assaulted with un-imaginative accidents that plagued our roads. Lives were lost, many wrecked. Psychological trauma to those who survived is still magnanimous.

Commissioner of Lands
Zablon Mabeya. The fetid and fatuous fink with a grain for brain. His enpassant replies onto the Syokimau demolition were exacerbated by arrogance. A post that has security of tenure can surely afford the public a derogatory catarrh for answers, while a 'what will you do?' attitude graces his emetic countenance.

Taisez-vous, salope

My next-door-neighbor is not a nice chic. She is a biach.

I have no remorse, only passion, when saying that. I shout from the roof-top with a megaphone shouting bitch! bitch! yeah bitch...

Wow! That feels better. Therapeutic. Marshal in the decadence of FIDA on my face. Sue me with the stench of women groups. The fact remain, Mary is the bitchest bitch in the bitching history.

I moved in  the estate early last year and due to my busy schedule i rarely saw her. Whenever i did, my heart would gulp and knees weaken. I wished for a recognizance from her, a beckon from her manicured wicked finger, a haunt of husky voice, a beg to toy with her ample bosom.

I even rescheduled my school plan and lagged within the strategic positions of the estate a lot. She failed to rekindle my teenage-hood crush. Every time she chanced upon me, her gaze would be indifferent; the way you can view a wall on the hallway because you can see it.

Her eyes refused to collect the sightly pressed shirt of a lone brushing against her shoulder, the wearer strong in poise and confidence, a stretching smile revealing dazzling teeth. Her nose forfeited the alluring overtones of  Yardley cologne, triple-applied this time for her sake, an appalling sacrifice. I tried again, then again. I eventually gave up.

I failed to understand why she, a rogue vixen, that nympho-wannabe, would discard my presence with indignation. You see, every day different cadre of men would pay ritual visits in her crib in an increasing frequency. White, blacks, reds. Luos, kalenjins, Kikuyus. I knew they were Kikuyus if they took a maximum of three minutes in her room.

 I had to confront her.

I caught her just when a burly toad of a man scampered from her room tightening his leather belt with what looked like a satisfied grin on his sweaty face. I locked the door and eased myself on the seat before saying a crooked hi.

She opened her eyes large and upon seeing me, her pupils slit. Imagine, like a cat's. I felt elated. Two glasses of Old Admiral was having the desired effects.

"What are you doing here, John?" she hissed.

"Ahh! So you know mine name!" I almost hissed back but laughed contentedly. This was becoming pleasant than i thought.

"I have a visitor in ten minutes," a assertion.

"Ahh! Visitors...," I belched. "What fancy name rich for men-whore!" Dagger looks. Then furious serenity. The calmness on her face was unnerving. I regretted ignoring the third glass. "Ok, i got clarifications here ma'am. Am I not fit to be christened a visitor? Am i not a man endowed with two balls and a shaft? What do these men possess that i so lack? Balls of brass or a golden shaft! Huh?"

I watch her wince through the entire diatribe. her shoulders crumble, her eye-lashes crest-fallen. It suddenly hit me hard, looking at her insecurity, how young she was. Sixteen? Seventeen but hardly twenty. layers of mascara and cheap make-up had aged her considerably.

"Wallets," she was barely audible. "They have fatter wallets than you, John. As fat as their tummies girth. their minuscule, pitiable wee-wees are more satisfying when accompanied with shekels than your purported vivacious rod held in place by your mother's pocket-money. A girl like me cannot live by joyous thrusts alone but by every coin that emanates from such activity. Am sorry, John."

I was shattered. I was devastated.

In my room it became clear that money had rendered many men sex-less. A pitch for a dip.As giggles started wafting from the room beyond i felt like shouting, "SHUT UP BITCH!"

Heavy Artillery Guys

                                                          

So, we live in times that women, not only know what they want, but they also take that bold step of faith and go for it. Gone are the days that they would give subtle hints and leave men to unravel the rest. Gone are the days when, if she feels you and you so much as don't notice, she would just take the back seat and fantasize what would have been if it had happened. They are no longer the hunted but the hunters. The vigor they put in the chase, baffles even the world known ‘players’.

And when you thought that is all, it gets interesting. They don't get shy of asking what they want. You think you going in with your guns blazing ready to take her down. Fully armed the wild-west style. A veteran of the trade. A marksman. One shot one kill. Boy, will you be surprised?

Just the other day, a friend of mine vowed to always have a box of ammunition hidden somewhere just in case the first shot misses the target, finds the wall and ricochets to hit you smack on the chest.

So, after a really boring day, the clock chimed 6 in the p.m. A minute after Guiness time.

''Guys, lets go to the lake and boost domestic tourism.''

Cool, we hit the road only for us to get to the gate and find that our intel on the charges was way off the track. What's next, hit a couple of boring pubs before we end up on this wow! place. We add a little weight with nyam-chom and due to the fear of becoming obese, we send an agent code named vodoski, after it. I just hope the threat was neutralized.

Back to this buddy of mine. In the full glamor of the wild-west, he spots a fine looking mamasita (oh! By the way, he is a man united fan, no pun intended but you are free to interpret it in your own way) gyrating to the tunes of zilizopendwa (one wonders if they are hated nowadays).

He approaches confidently and drops some really cool moves, lacing it all with some fine lines and bam! spot on, target down. He throws the other pistol and advances to collect the spoils. After all, the winner goes home with it all, right? Wrong.

..........some movement from the damsel. He stops. Evaluates the situation and continues forward. The damsel, gingerly, gets back on her feet and tells him point blank that he was a fine looking guy and they' d go wherever and do whatever, all her throat needed was a seasonal river cascading down to her bowels.

My buddy, not one to let go easily, decided to keep on gyrating a little more and hope the lady would give in sometime later call it a night and it' d be a win to the dude and a loss to the chic. He promises her that she just has to relax and swing to the beats for when the dam got opened, she would beg for them to be closed. That made the swings become more vigorous and sensuous to a point at one time, i thought it would all happen there and then. Guess he was being given a taste of what was to come.

An hour later and not a single drop seemed to be forthcoming. The lady excused herself and went straight to a guy who it seemed as if they had been eye-conversing for sometime and sat on his lap. As if on cue, a waiter comes over with five bottles of standing tall (irony is she was quite short) and opened them all. The lady goes ahead and refreshes her roots which I guess were now choking with thirst.

Dude decided that he wouldn't take it lying down, or rather in his case, standing. He approached the table and demanded for an explanation. The guy whose lap had been converted to a seat, stood tall, literally, and believe me when i tell you this, whoever is responsible for choosing NFL players, would have disqualified the dude for being over-qualified physically.

To the winner goes the spoil, only this time, my buddy was the loser. He backed down from a growling German Shepherd to a yapping chihuahua puppy. Licking his badly hurt ego, he headed for the exit.

Load them ammunition guys. Big guns. Full blown Al Shaabab style. Heavy artillery all the way.