Foghorn anyone?

A few times during the past few weeks, I have wanted to purchase a foghorn, like we used to have back in the '80s and '90s to scare thieves.

Here’s why. Every time I walk near a bus stop – whether I’m actually going to take a bus or just happen to be passing through – about 10 drivers hoot at me.

And it’s not because I’m well dressed or exceptionally attractive, no. They’re under the false impression that deafening me as I approach their vehicle will somehow make me want to jump on board. It won’t.

Fine. I understand their logic. Catch their attention before they scatter away. The problem is, it works against them – most of the time. Since women are the majority, everywhere – except in levels of authority – these guys should know that we, are like birds.

Loud noises scare us! They don’t attract us. Hooting at me won’t get me or the one thousand other women into your car. I’ll run in the opposite direction.

But let’s say it does work, and I board this guy’s matatu, who’s just busted my eardrums and given me a temporary concussion. Doesn't he think that I would want to pay him back?

WELL, I DO!!!

This is where the foghorn comes in. Most car horns sound exactly like foghorns. How glorious would it be, if, you and I walked around with foghorns in our bags (or pockets, they make them small enough nowadays). And once we got hooted at, entered the culprit’s vehicle, snuggled into the seat directly behind him, got out our weapons and blew out his ear too?

Diabolical, I know. But in a world where every single man has got to defend his own rights, I’d like the choice to protect myself, and perhaps the next gal or guy this crazy hooter has in his sights.

I’d be a little bothered about causing a driver’s ear to bleed, but, suffering the noise and half-deafness every single day is not right either.

Not doing something about it, is as good as saying you really don’t care about the fact that you can hear.

There are deaf people among us who say it’s a lot quieter for them, of course, but that’s not to say that some of them wouldn’t want to hear the sound of music, or their baby laughing.

Those of us who can, need to appreciate our hearing by fighting the noise pollution... with more noise pollution. That or we can all walk around with industrial ear muffs everywhere we go.

I vote for the foghorn because, NEMA ain’t doing jack about it now. They can’t possibly arrest us for polluting the air with noise. Can they?

So, I entered the Airtel Trace Music Star contest...

I understand now why most actors don't watch movies they've starred in. Why scriptwriters don't watch movies they've written.

In my old age, I have decided to enter the above mentioned singing contest, and by a miracle of God, I ended up in a Google Hangout with Akon himself. I had done no research on the man at all, other than watching a few of his collabos with the King of Pop, my favourite rapper Eminen and some of his first successful singles.

So here I am at the Google offices in Westlands, Nairobi. Never been there, never been part of a hangout before, don't know what to expect. But it sounds easy enough, so after 2 days of  "performance anxiety" and a gut of mush (butterflies are for sissies), I'm sitting there, as calm as a lake at dawn.

'Will they ask me to sing?' I wonder. I don't know. Ready for everything.
'Will my mind go blank as it is wont to do in the face of pressure?'
'Will guys look at my funnily shaped head and go "What's wrong with your head, dudette?"'
"Will my dreadlocks hurt my chances?"
"What the hell do I look like on TV?"

All this time I'm nibbling at some fruity cake, and checking out my reflection in the laptop Biggie (A larger than life Google tech guy) had set up for me.

Why do I look so yellow? I point up with what I hope is an inquisitive look on my face.
"It's the lights," Biggie agrees.

Someone's giving us instructions. Somehow, I'm able to follow her instructions and my own train of thought without getting confused. And don't forget, the cake is still getting nibbled. Multi-tasking ninja!

Suddenly, Akon's in one of the screens. First thing he does is lean in, presumably to see the faces of the people at the hangout. This is followed by a swift, nose-pick. Thankfully, my mic is muted so he doesn't hear me laugh and say "Ew!" and "My Negro! You're one of us!!!!"

Don't deny it, you go fishing inside your nostrils on a regular basis when no one's looking.

And then Larry Madowo is on. Then Mosh (John Muchiri) then Muthoni "Not the drag queen" Ndonga. (I wonder if she's from that family that has a supermarket in Kagwe). Njeri Mwaura, Charles from Airtel. And I'm like, 'we really all look like we know what we're doing here'.

Alright. As soon as we go live, Akon's face changes from inquisitive boredom to: "Hi! I was created to make you happy and comfortable. And you're going to like me whether you like it or not."

I wanted to ask a bunch of stuff, none of which I remember now. But in my fear of looking stupid, I went ahead and looked even stupider by tweeting on my 2011, Samsung Galaxy. Yes. It still works. No one's talking about this. Good. I only told my sister and my friend Pauline. It's not like I won the lottery so I'll keep this under wraps until I have something worthwhile.

But what is that saying about not despising small beginnings?

Larry keeps throwing 'chances' at me. Each time, I have no idea what he means, but I end up asking something silly, but Akon, being the star he is salvages it by responding in a matter befitting a Diplomat.

"This is an amazing opportunity for shy singers," I say, "How did you start out! Have you worked with rock artistes? Would you want to? Are you a slave driver?"

Notice the downward progression of that line of questioning. I sound like a dumb cop, interrogating a smart criminal who can tell I'm dumb as hell. Like a diplomat, he answers and answers and answers.

"We're in it for the money. No I haven't worked with rock artistes, but I would consider it. Absolutely, I'd drive you to work. You have to work hard."

"I have no political ambitions," my foot! This guy has it in his blood. He may not want to be a politician, but like Jonah, he's getting swallowed by a whale - politics. He'd be the only other honest politician in the world, after Pope Francis.

Before I know it, the hangout is over and I'm sad that I didn't get to sing. Everyone talked. Everyone asked questions. Some were smarter than others. As usual, the self-deprecator in me goes into overdrive (sounds like an Incubus song)

The wonderful people at Google take us to the Sankara for dinner. We're there until almost midnight. It's a Thai Restaurant. To be safe, I order soup and only water. But I think the food there was specifically to give you a good night's sleep because, as soon as I slurp the last of my stuff, I'm pining for a soft pillow.

Struggling to keep my eyes open. How do they do it? All these stars who perform every night for months on end? Drugs. No? Some people were just made for late nights and bright lights. Some need a little help along those lines.

But I guess I must really want it, because I can't stop thinking about it. Not even after I've prayed about it.

And I guess this is as good a time as any to ask you, whoever you are, to listen to my recording, and if you like it, VOTE!!! for me.

Call 0900733733 enter my code 54101412, and vote for it.

or

Text my code 54101412 to 337337


You can also enter the contest yourself by calling  0900733733

Thank you!!!

The ‘modern Kenyan woman’ unveiled

The married woman in Kenya feels more vulnerable to contracting HIV, income loss and un-expected pregnancy than her single counterpart.

This disturbing information is revealed in a DAMA research report by Consumer Insight, during which 1300 women from Nairobi, Mombasa, Kisumu, Nyeri and Eldoret were interviewed.

Despite the fears expressed by the married women, a church wedding remains high on the list of ideals they wish to keep. Even then, only a few more than one third of the ‘married’ women interviewed have had a religious wedding. Most settle for customary or come-we-stay arrangements.

Almost 26 per cent of the married women say they married 'the wrong man' and one third of them do not live with their husbands. About 10 per cent of the women surveyed, want a civil wedding, and exactly the same number had one. Even more curiously, about 20 per cent find it acceptable for a woman to propose marriage to a man.

The single woman feels better able to control encounters that may lead to harm. Both the young and those over 30 believe that life is moving too fast and that home is a retreat and refuge from the busy world; a place they can go to unwind by watching series on DVD all day or simply sleeping all weekend.

The study, ‘aimed at better understanding the woman and their impact on the social-economic fabric of the country’, also showed that the many faces you see in church on Sunday morning, are likely to be the very same faces getting down and dirty in clubs the night before. Women’s finances, media use, shopping behaviour and lifestyle choices were also covered in this study.

DAMA showed that while women want to own households, they dislike household chores. They are also technology addicts but like to take a break from it all and just sleep. The study also showed that married women over 30 watch and listen to a lot more TV and radio than their younger counterparts who prefer the Internet. Far fewer young women use email, suggesting that social media like WhatsApp may be the future of online communication and entertainment.

For an ideal life, the Kenyan women cited money, a good job, good house, good education and family as being most important, the last of which is favoured by the woman over 30. World Peace is equally important to the young and old.

Who and what they admire

Ambition, Nelson Mandela, Wangari Maathai and a new addition, First Lady Margaret Kenyatta are all things the modern Kenyan woman admires. Impulse shopping for clothes and shoes is another way to indulge the self, and Kenyan women pursue 'retail therapy' with a vengeance. More than 60 per cent say they bought clothes at least once a month. Eight per cent bought clothes at least once a week. More than three quarters of these shoppers, favour second-hand markets.

When it came to hair care, braids rule but weaves were in the top five as well. More than 60 per cent of the money spent on hair-care went to artificial hair types. The consolation here is that close to 90 per cent believe that beauty for Kenyan women is grounded in internal values and in self-belief rather than appearance.  Overall, behind every shopper, wife, clubber and mother, is an income earner. It comes as no surprise then that a majority (how many) of the women surveyed said they earned a personal income.

For married women, business is a vital source of income, while a good percentage also works in active employment, where they enjoy equality to a high degree. A surprising 90 per cent say they have experienced no discrimination for being female. Whether they were treated preferentially is not clear. That is the modern Kenyan woman.

Natasha Likimani writes movie scripts to the top

This article was first published in the SATURDAY NATION on Saturday, November 1, 2014.

NATASHA LIKIMANI always wanted to be a movie star; she still does. But somewhere in between anchoring and acting, the screenwriter within her was birthed. Her success as a scriptwriter and the triumph of Veve, one of her most notable works, remind us that awfully valuable lesson – that school can’t teach you anything you’re not willing to learn; but when you really want to know something, not even a lack of schooling can hold you back. She speaks to NJERI MUCHAI about her life, work, the current state of film in Kenya, and the little things we can do that will cause major shifts in the industry.

Born Saturday, February 6, 1982 – a birthday she proudly shares with Reggae king, Bob Marley – Natasha makes her life look easy. It’s not. Full of accomplishments that would make many wither with inadequacy, the 32-year-old has written nearly 20 movie, television and radio scripts, and all without ‘formal’ training. She learnt on the job. A self-admitted introvert, Natasha has also penned a children’s book Mrembo and the Ant Queen – published by Oxford University Press, East Africa.

And although her focus in now fully on writing scripts, she has also been a graphic and fashion designer – gifts she has since buried – as well as a chalk artiste and a poet. Both of these she does to calm herself, and deal with whatever issues crop up in life. Natasha is not shabby, but she’s not overly flamboyant either. Comfort chic – glamour that you can walk in – is her preferred fashion style. She however enjoys the occasional piercing, ten of which are in her ears. A polite chin ring and a-once-upon-a-time nose ring, still adorn her face. Tattoos? Why not!

What if writing hadn’t worked out, I want to know. She most likely to have been an actress, an environmentalist or a guerrilla crime fighter taking refuge in Karura Forest, where she’d run back to save the trees. Lucky for us, writing did work out for this pilau and chapati loving, introverted, young artiste.

How did all this start?

I was working as a news anchor at KBC and knew one of the actors at Makutano Junction, Emily Wanja. When she told me they were auditioning, I went, got the part and then in the next season, I applied for a writing job.

No more acting?

Screenwriting takes a lot of energy so I haven't really concentrated on acting.

But if you could, what local shows would you like to be cast in?

Let’s see... I wouldn’t mind doing some comedy but I don’t think I’m funny. The Real Housewives of Kawangware... I think that’s so cool.

What other stuff have you written?

I work mainly in TV because that's where the consistent work and money is. I've worked on Demigods (NTV), Tahidi High (Citizen TV), Kona (Africa Magic) as a writer and assistant script editor. I also have about 6 television movies on Africa Magic Maisha. One is called Clandestine, based on that klande culture, but, I added a twist; what if you’re newly married and your klande won't let you go, no matter what?

Sometimes I just take a step back and think of a way to make it more entertaining than realistic. That's TV. With movies like Veve, I had to be as realistic as possible so that the audience could go: 'that just happened to me the other day.'

How did your family react to Veve?

[Her sister Wacheke, who came along for the interview, laughs] She's laughing because she knows... I didn't take my mom to the Premier because I wondered; will mum be okay watching this type of movie? So we decided, we'd go together again, my sisters Naisola, Waceke and I. But I didn't watch it again because I couldn’t be in the same cinema with mum watching.

When they came out of the cinema, they were all looking down; mum was shaking her head and said "Oi, Tasha!" And my sisters played along. Then they all went: "Psyche!!!”

I think that for the first time [mum] understood the obsession I had for all those years; that it was not just a dream. I'm actually going for it. I loved watching cartoons – Tom and Jerry, Pink Panther – and I used to emulate them. The fact that I still do those things now, and that I wrote something she actually liked; that for me was like a full-circle moment.

Natasha (left) with sisters Naisola and Waceke and Veve actor Emo Rugene

Did you favour any characters in Veve?

I loved them all, but I really liked Sammy (Conrad Makeni) and his son Kago (David Wambugu), there was something there that I really liked. But I liked also, the politician (Lowry Odhiambo) because that’s how our politicians are.

How about the actors themselves? Who was most on-point?

Savara Mudigi (Julius), now that’s a character who when I wrote him, he was meant to be just nasty.

And Savara brought it?

He was so nasty. It would be nice to see him stretch his acting muscles because, he has something.

How long before it’s on DVD?

Two years... otherwise we’ll be buying it for 50bob. I think it needs to win its accolades around the world and then be on DVD, TV and Cable.

Do you get a cut every time it shows?

No. In such a scenario when someone options a script, what they pay, is what they pay you. You can choose to say ‘I get a cut’, but I wasn’t well known enough yet make such a deal.

You are now.

Yes. That’s why I did it. Veve has launched me internationally, so I didn’t even care whether this one made a million dollars and I didn’t get a cut; I wasn’t doing it for the money.

Were you present when Veve was being shot?

Not this time. There is that option, but I don’t want to harm the process. I didn’t even watch Veve until the premier.

Would you want to direct at all?

It’s not my thing, but, I’m starting to think that I should. I wouldn’t mind, but I like the quietness of writing... and acting, you do your thing and you can go back to your room. And the people that I admire, Tina Fey and Shonda Rhimes, they don’t direct so, I’m okay.

What do you do when you’re not writing?

I guess I'm catching up with life. I don't have a very good social life and have to be dragged out of the house to go see people, but yeah, I try to be social... watch movies.

I wish I could say I go bungee jumping but...

So you’re an introvert?

Very much so; but I’ve had to work on being around people. I have friends who drag me along and tell me “It's okay to be yourself”. I'll be that person in the corner... I've got psycho qualities.

Does it help you write, being an introvert?

It gives you time to absorb your environment. For us, it's about paying attention to details, human behaviour, so that when you write a character it's based on somebody.

Do you do all your writing in a team?

For television, I work in a team of four or five people, but the Africa Magic Maisha movies I worked on alone.

What are you working on right now?

I've pitched some stuff I can't talk about. That's the thing about this industry. If you don't have a commissioned TV show, you’re always re-applying for jobs. Sometimes there's a huge gap of no work and then there's a lot of work; you take it all when it comes.

And the pay?

Sometimes, you wait three months before you get paid for a job you’ve already finished. There are, however, some professionals who, as soon as you've written and they've approved your work, they pay you. But you have to be very wise. When the jobs come, you save.

Anything you do on the side to supplement your income?

What else would I be doing? When the jobs come, pay is good enough for you to plan for 6 months. But there'll always be work. Nowadays. A few years ago it was terrible; you couldn't survive off of this industry at all. 2011 was a terrible year.

Screenplay geniuses you like?

Growing up it was Steven Spielberg and Quentin Tarantino; he’s crazy but he’s a genius. [Tarantino] wrote Pulp fiction in like two weeks! Those are the people that I looked up to. Recently, say, the past five years, the partnering team of Robert Orci and Alex Kurtzman (Amazing Spiderman, Sleepy Hollow) are the ones I look up to now. But it’s a pity that I have to look that far

How about locally?

Maybe my peers; I’ve always worked with is Damaris Irungu (Jastorina), we’ve written so many projects together. Producer Abby Matere too; I’ve worked with her for over three years. She’s consistent and not corrupt. Wanjiru Kairu; she’s a writer and director. Zippy Nyaruri (Zebu and the photo fish) is another, whose award winning film did so well around the world. I don’t think people realize how successful that short film was. She moved to... Amsterdam?

Why aren’t local channels airing their films? Are they expensive to buy?

No. They have their own view of what the audience wants. But if I’m to be honest, one station decided they were going to be totally local and built their niche. The rest saw how successful they were and followed suit. They were being followers not leaders. And now, Africa Magic and Mnet are building their own niche in terms of the type of movies and series they are showing. So if [local media houses] wanted to find local content and put a call out, they would get a lot of quality short of films and series. Okay maybe not film; that is expensive.

So what should we do?

How it works in Hollywood is, each season has a particular type of show running. Summer, for example, when not many people are indoors, they have very bright and simple stories. They can go a bit deeper with the other seasons.

We need to have that kind of regulation and the understanding that not every Kenyan wants to watch a slapstick comedy. And if you’re going to do drama, it doesn’t have to be family drama. Also, here we run TV shows every week! It would be nice to break it up so that one show runs for a maximum of six months and another for the remainder of the year. That way you have a consistency of different shows. We have shows here that have run for 6 years. There has to be some sort of moderation so that the audience doesn’t get bored.

How do you feel about Spanish soaps?

I grew up loving them; Esmeralda, The Rich Also Cry, No One but you; KBC started with the Spanish soap trend. I think they’re great, but the thing is, they would never buy any of our content to air in their country. Never!

There’s nothing wrong with Spanish and Filipino content, but, we can have the same type of story in a Kenyan context. The stories are basically the same.

So why don’t we do it?

It’s a money thing. It’s cheaper to buy 500 episodes at $5 (Sh450) an episode, have a consistent programme airing that people will like and get ratings. That, or they can spend Sh500,000 per episode for a local soap.

Really? That much for locals?

No, it depends. Some cost Sh250,000 or Sh350,000 and if they’re feeling generous Sh400,000 per episode. But the lowest people can go is Sh200,000.

How do you feel about the adaptation of local books into film?

Some people are doing that right now, but, it’s expensive; especially if it’s a book by a well known author. You need to get the rights which you get for a year or two. If in that time you haven’t done as you said you would, you have to repay or rights are given to someone else. That’s the complication; probably why I haven’t even tried. And yet [adaptations] are the best because already, there’s a following, a great story, and tone...

Do you think we need to make more action movies and series?

Definitely.

Would it be too expensive?

There’s something called guerrilla filmmaking which you can employ in low budget pictures. The Blair Witch Project, which popularized found footage type movies, cost about $12,000 (Sh100,000). We really need to know how to use guerrilla filmmaking techniques where all you have is a HD camera, but know how to shoot. 

Someone who does that successfully is Robert Rodriguez (Desperado, Machette, El Mariachi, Sin City); you’ll see him with just a small camera. He shoots, edits – he’s a genius like that, and you wouldn’t know that he didn’t have a massive crew.

What do you think the government can do to help?

I don’t think [government] understands the industry; its potential, the impact and revenue that can be made. The film fund – I don’t even know where it went. But I hear they’ve helped people.

The best thing they can do is liaise with countries like China and South Africa which put funds out there; not loans like they give here. The King’s Speech, for example, was made from the UK film council lottery. We need to adopt such practices because they launch us internationally.

South Korea – I watch a lot of their movies – has brilliant artists. They get grants and their movies end up being adapted to Hollywood, so they get even more revenue. And you’ll never see India crossing over to Hollywood because 20^th Century Fox and Fox Star Studios have opened studios there and are guaranteed a billion viewers.

But [Kenya] is still very confused. [The Kenya Film Commission] is not asking the right questions and isn’t getting the right kind of help. Kalasha, for example, is a mixture of the Oscars, Emmys, The Golden Globes... just all over the place.

What’s your favourite Kenyan movie so far?

Veve![chuckles]

...that is not Veve...

I love Nairobi Half Life. I think that’s the one that started it all and made me believe that we can really do it. And Kenyans didn’t make a big deal about the two guys kissing, which is good.

Have any favourite Kenyan directors?

Directors are hard... Wanjiru Kairu; but she doesn’t do it as much as I’d like her to. Another is Omfwoko ‘Fwoks’ Aswani (34), who died recently. He was really good.

Favourite local TV series?

Kona! Okay, one that I haven’t written? I like the Real Housewives of Kawangware. What Hapa Kule News is doing is pretty fantastic.

Best actor in Kenya in your opinion?

Conrad Makeni is pretty fantastic. Mkamzee Mwatwela and Carol Midimo too; she does a lot of drama but is also very good at comedy; very funny.

Who do you want to work with internationally?

Steven Spielberg; I’ve wanted to work with him since I watched Jurassic Park. Ben Affleck too, because he’s just brilliant.

Hollywood is obviously in your sights. What would you do if today, you got the chance to work there?

When you get such an opportunity, you have to be aware that there’s a lot that needs to be built back home. I wouldn’t go [to Hollywood] and get lost. I’d go there, make it, and fund a lot of the productions that need to be done here.

Religious, are you?

I am a born again Christian but I don't like the word religious. I really focus on the Bible, reading it and fellowshipping with people; I don't go to church that often. I know I'm going to get smashed for that one [laughs]. Of course I've made mistakes but, it's about going back to God all the time.

Do you still want to go to school?

I gave up on that dream once I found out how much they wanted, I was like “oh! No, I’m not yet that rich.”

And yet you are a professional scriptwriter.

Yeah.

Would you consider passing on the knowledge?

I do. I’m going to be a trainer at the Maisha Film lab in November. I did tell people about it on my Facebook page and WordPress, where I usually post industry updates.

cnjeri@ke.nationmedia.com

@njerish

Woman, why won’t you contain your bag, thighs and hair?

Sometime last year, a rumour was spreading, much like Ebola is now, about people stealing hair from people with dreadlocks in matatus, in dark alleys and sometimes right on the street when crossing the road. 

That freaked me out. 

Whenever I took a matatu – because I’d spent all my fuel money on other shit I didn’t need – I’d make sure to cover my head with a scarf. When I went out of the office building in town, I did the same. But the rumours didn’t spread much further or longer and I soon forgot about it.

But now that I think about it, perhaps I should start a rumour that a secret society of necrophiliacs are targeting women with large, weaves and wigs, specifically so that they can cut them off at the scalp, take their handbags of pleather, scrape a little dead skin off their thighs and do whatever it is that necrophiliacs do with such things as they collect. But fake and dead don’t mean the same thing, you say! Well necrophiliacs don’t give a damn! Fake is as good as dead to them, I say.

Why would I do this, you wonder? I’m just so sick and tired of inhaling hair product, carrying half a bag that’s not mine and being squashed by slender people who could fit perfectly in their chairs, but decide to snuggle as close to you as they possibly can. It’s not fair, and I don’t swing that way. Don’t swing at all, might I add J.

I’m not going to seek the necro’s on my fellow women because they look bad, no! In fact, they look pretty good. I wish I had the money to buy and the courage to wear weaves. As we speak, I do not. But I don’t want your plastic tresses in my eye every time you turn your head or every time a cross current passes coughs through an open window. I don’t like it.

Hmm... maybe I’ll just create a legend, a serial hair cutter... and then bring it/him/her to life myself. And when I do get caught, as all serial [people?] do, I’m sure I won’t be stoned to death, or made to wear a rubber doughnut and set alight. There’s no way.

99 problems and ... they’re all matatu related

@njerish

njerimuchai@outlook.com

You know how, when you enter a matatu, you pick the seat of least resistance in the hope that no one will sit on you, step on you, unwittingly – or otherwise – fondle you or pick your pocket? No? Well, most of us do. It doesn't always work. In fact, it rarely does.

Public transport is the cheapest, safest, most comfortable form of transportation in Kenya. Or at least it should be. As it stands, Matatu drivers are ninjas, every single one of them. Notice how they carry on conversations with passengers, their makanga and whoever is on the other end of that mobile phone in their hand, overtake at 120kph in dense traffic, evade arrest and wear their uniforms all at the same time.

One hand is on the steering wheel at all times and the rear-view mirror is all but unnecessary; they prefer to turn their heads and look!

Put on a track with Lewis Hamilton, they might not follow the rules, but they’d beat him every time because, short cuts and flawless multi-tasking, are what it’s all about. Of course, they crush – a lot less than you’d expect – kill and maim thousands every year, themselves included.

The treachery, however, begins before you even enter the matatu.  In many parts of the country, the drivers, intent on catching the fish their competitors are also making eyes at, will drive right onto the curb, forcing pedestrians and clients alike to dive into whatever nearby bush is available. Or worse, straight into oncoming traffic! 

But they don’t stop there! The makanga proceeds to shove you into his vessel having whispered a ridiculously low fare into your ear. And that would be really good too, if he wasn’t taking you 100 kilometres away from your destination. 

They always assume they know where you’re going. On the off chance that you are going where they’re taking you, the driver then proceeds to drive off at full speed, when you only have one foot in the car. He’s a ninja, see?

Once you’re inside a matatu with ninja Kamau at the wheel, you feel instantly safe that he will get you where you need to go. That, or you suddenly get the urge to take up long distance running as a way of life, rather than as a sport.

If you choose the former, you still have the makanga to contend with. And that independence seat just behind the conductor offers no respite. If the dude did not shower that morning or is overly prone to perspiration, you’re getting a whiff of him whether you like it or not. And his manly scent is not the worst of it.

If we ever had the misfortune of entertaining Lady Ebola in Kenya, a makanga would most likely be to blame for your catching it. 

They’re swift, aren’t they? How they wipe the sweat off their brow, pick their nose, scratch their crotch, ‘welcome’ another passenger into the already fully occupied vessel and hand you your change in one fell swoop! Mind boggling. 

New Olympic sport
Makangaring should be an Olympic sport; a test in swiftness. We thank God, don’t we, that Aids is not as easily transmitted as televangelist Pat Robertson seems to think it is. We ordinary, matatu-taking Kenyans would have ceased to exist in the 90s, and an Elysium of sorts, populated by only those with personal cars, resulted. 

You see, aside Nyayo Buses (DAFs, we called them) and Kenya Buses, matatus and sometimes friendly neighbours, were the only other way of getting from one side of the country to the other.

Out of all 99 matatu related problems, death by accident and death by Ebola, are the most obviously frightening.  

Then there’s the cashlessness issue. We were supposed to have gone totally digital by July 2014. Tomorrow is November, and cash is till passing from one sweaty hand to another. This is not only unsanitary, but it also gives conductors and drivers room to play with the fare prices. 

How about the fact that cops do not check if passengers are wearing belts, or if they even exist to begin with? Not only that but, some people just don’t fit. They’re either too minute or too large. Some occupy half a seat; some occupy a lot more. The skinny get squashed and fly out of their belts in an accident. The hefty do the squashing and fly out of the windscreen because the belts were not designed accommodate them. They’re jua kali seatbelts, hastily installed in the fear that not doing so would rattle Michuki’s snakes.

And then there’s the little matter of being touched against your will. Ever notice that, when you’re unfortunate enough to share a seat, the guy next to you always has his money in the pocket that’s in contact with your hip. Why is it never in the breast pocket or even ensconced in someone’s cleavage?

And God forbid that Mr Conductor should take your fare or hand you your change without touching you. He has to grab the tip of the note between your thumb and forefinger, with all five of his phalanges. Sometimes, all ten! Ninja! The rest of that note that you’re not touching is not money. No! It couldn't possibly be worth anything is their logic.

Again, why does the makanga never give you crisp notes or shiny new coins in change? Two parts of a 50bob note are always glued together with tape and the coins always show signs of having been in a fire... or an accident.

Also, when is the Nyayo Bus coming back?

Wyre named Mziiki brand partner

Mziiki, the largest African music-streaming app has just signed Kenyan R&B and reggae/Dance 

Hall star Kevin Wyre (otherwise known as Wyre) to join the movement as Brand Partner. Wyre joins Tanzanian Bongo Flava star Diamond Platnumz whose association was announced recently.

As brand partner for Mziiki Wyre becomes a face of the brand in Kenya. “Mziiki is a cool place for people to find new music and enjoy music from their favourite artists. It’s very exciting to be a part of the Mziiki movement,” says Wyre.

Mziiki offers music-lovers an easy way to access new music anytime, anywhere. Available on Blackberry, iOS and Android mobile devices, it’s as simple as opening the app and selecting or searching for a song. The ease of access, diversity of music and variety of functions on the app offer  artists a great way to expand their fan-base. 

“Because Mziiki is easy to use, and boasts a large array of African and international music, artists get the opportunity to expand their fan base and get their music out there while minimizing piracy. 

Mziiki allows users to explore new genres and artists that they haven’t heard before,” says Arun Nagar, CEO of Spice VAS Digital, the developers of Mziiki. “We’re happy to have Wyre, who is one of Kenya’s top and most renowned artists, join Mziiki as a Brand Partner. We know his fan-base appreciates the partnership – with Mziiki, we have brought Wyre closer to his fans.”

Launched in May 2014, Mziiki has provided artists with a boost in their already-successful careers and continues to grow daily with more artists joining daily.

The 10 hardest things about losing weight

I was reading the other day, a story by a lady called Nadia Darwesh, detailing the benefits and trendiness of going raw. I remembered how, a few years ago, when I was still young and defiant, I went totally raw – against everyone’s advice – for about 3 months, lost a lot of weight (7.5kg to be exact), and a lot of bone mass along with it. It wasn't pretty, but my skin was flawless. And then foolishly went back to my ridiculously cheap diet of fries, the occasional sausage and about a litre of tomato sauce, chilli and vinegar a weak. That... that wasn’t pretty.

Three or four years down the line, I've mastered the art of weight loss, minus the bone loss, for myself and people who like me, who love meat and cheese, hate exercise and would be amazed if they could just get to a size 10. That's considered tiny here (TIA) But that's another story altogether.

In my journey, I've come to realize that not everyone appreciates you're trying to get in shape and hopefully, into some smaller clothes, and preferably ones that don’t look like body curtains. You know the kind... they look like maternity dresses, have gathers and make you look like a cylindrical window – or a spherical one, depending on how ROUND you really are. But even that wasn’t as bad. My goal was always to be like the middle child of the sizes; between the skinny and obese friends. I’m just about there. And it hasn’t been nearly as easy as I’ve let on. Here are my ten worst experiences that came and continue to come with my weight loss.

10. Your mother starts to criticize you for being so thin – as if it's such a bad thing in these times of fast-everything and morbid obesity. She might also bring you food, you know, if you're close - and she'll watch you eat it, just to make sure. She might also send money for food. If none of these things work she might a) try to lose weight with you or b) make fun of your bony frame every time you're together in public.

9. Finding foods that you enjoy eating and can afford... and that won’t kill you... and then sticking to them. I experimented a lot. Some nuts gave me gas, almonds (which are seeds by the way) didn’t. But they’re expensive. Whole wheat chapati gave me some crazy IBS, bananas make me sleepy, so now I only eat them at home when I do not need to concentrate on anything, and very close to bed time. Plus, I have to mix them into food because on their own, they make me nauseas. So now, I’ll go to a different market every week, and I’ll look at all the vegetables and fruits I’ve never eaten or even seen, and buy those in small amounts. Then I’ll consult mother Google on how they’re consumed in different cultures – cooked, raw, roasted, soaked, I’ll try anything once. Eventually, I’ll stick with what is most comfortable.

8. So it’s about 4 months down the line and you start to lose a little weight, and the reason you worked towards losing the weight is so that you’d stop buying body curtains. But guess what, the clothes you already have are so large now, that they do look like body curtains. You have to go shopping now, but you’ve spent all your money on good food, and fuel or fare to where the good food is. So now, you’re down to the only two pairs of jeans that fit, somewhat, and three of the smallest tops, which are still pretty big. Soon enough, you’re getting looks that say “...poor girl, she can’t afford to buy new clothes...” and they’re right. They’re all right. But I’m planning on it, even if it doesn’t look like it right now. It’s all good if you have ‘sponsors’ who like to buy you stuff. It’s even better when you actually like to go shopping. I hate shopping unless food is involved. So, now you see why this is on this list.

7. Nobody sees the training you’ve gone through. They only see the overnight success, the ‘Oscar’, the star. They don’t see you standing outside McFries or KFC battling the demons that are practically levitating you to the counter and mouthing, on your behalf, “give me a double cheese burger, the family-sized pack of fries and chicken nuggets, a half-litre bottle of coke and fudge ice-cream for dessert. Yes, food demons exist and need to be battled. They come in the form of friends, relatives, work mates who somehow always have money to spend, even though you earn the same, and they pay double the amount in rent. Your critics never see habits you’ve had to give up; like that stash of poison – sweets, and salties and more sweets in the corner of your second drawer.

6. Again, TIA, so there’s always this random dude friend of yours who goes like, “you know African men like women with a little meat on them.”

0_o

Well... that’s fine; I like meat on my bones too but, what are we going to do about this fat around my vital organs? Should we close our eyes and pray that it one day magically becomes MEAT?!

If you think your woman really needs a little sum-sum on her bones, Lady Gaga proved to us that beef, and other meats, are good for a lot more than just eating. You can now wear it; make a meat dress; a pork bikini; a fish bra; mango flesh socks; mutton sandals; a polar bear meat coat and boy, I bet those Eskimos knew about blubber and flesh fashion before Noah... of the ark; hey-hey here comes the chicken dress, throw on a few of the chickens’ feathers to make it really flamboyant; and don’t forget the snake meat stockings. But those are just for sinners, because, you know... the snake was cursed at creation. No? Okay bye...

And the best part about having these kinds of meat on your bones ladies and gentlemen is... drumroll please... YOU CAN ACTUALLY TAKE IT OFF AT BEDTIME. Besides, even the skinny ones have plenty of meat in, on, around them... in places. It’s the fat they’ve chosen to NOT let accumulate. Geddit?

5. Once you go black... you can never go... no not really. It’s the trash you can never go back to here. And trust me the trash (fries) will call out to you. The trash (crisps) will beg you to eat it. The trash (sugar, sugar, sugar) will make itself so cheap, that you can buy 10 for the price of 1. But if you can say ‘no’ to the trash once, you can say no every time, even when it’s free and surrounds you like air.

4. If you don’t like the taste of fruits in general, yes such people exist and I am one of them, it can be very challenging. But you know yoghurt is good for. If it’s sugared, it’s less good for you. So... take the plain, bland yoghurt, throw in a few tasty nuts, a banana or orange or apple, you have the good kinds of sugars... nature’s sweets. Mix up your foods in ways that please the taste buds or you’ll be back on your bad foods faster that you can say obese.

3. Giving people advice on how they can lose weight is also pretty hard, because you don’t remember exactly what you did. You heard something here and adopted that, heard something somewhere else and adopted that too. When the results started coming in, you got energized and started really researching ways of expediting the process. Then you realized that no such ways exist without consequences. So you joined groups for support, shared your progress and eventually got to a place where people aren’t making fun of your efforts any more, they’re actually shocked that you accomplished, or are accomplishing, what you set out to do. So they start asking for help.

You offer it. But our bodies differ, one from the next. And your friends cheat and binge on large pack of crisps or a tub of ice cream every once in a while... and they still expect results! And when they don’t see them, they just give up.

2. Skinny friends can be your biggest encouragers. They can also be your biggest hindrance. You see, some of them want to add weight so they think you’re crazy for wanting to be smaller. Others don’t want to give you a complex... well, some do. They’ll say things like, “my, you look stuffed,” when you wear something that’s too small. But the kind ones say something like, “you’re not big, you have BDD, (look that up), your body is wonderful”. In so doing they actually do give you a complex – the kind that makes you think you’re not fat when you’re actually grossly overweight.

1.   The No.1 hardest thing about losing the weight is not actually losing the weight through exercise/starvation/eating a mango a day (I did none of these things because I love food and hate exercise as advertised by gyms, athletes, doctors, and Tae Bo enthusiasts, Yoga fanatics). No. The hardest thing about losing weight is all the people you were once fat with wanting you to remain fat forever even though they have the fat in all the right places and you look like Johnny Bravo, no matter what manner of striped trickery Kenya's Joan Rivers - that's Ian Mbugua - tries to convince you will 'shape' you. That's God's business man, and he already decided that if some people go even one kilo over their 'ideal weight' they look like blocks of meat on stilts. Stripes don't help us. Neither do friends who discourage us from losing weight. But losing weight does, because it allows us to wear belts like normal people.

Those have been my experiences. Do you have any that you’d like to share? Email me: njerimuchai@outlook.com

I let her go

I got home last night and Charlie wasn't in the house. I'd left a window open just so she could move in and out if she felt brave enough to and assumed that she'd gone and gone forever. I assumed wrong.

I found her on the balcony, cowering behind my compost bucket, scared and bloody. Something had happened to her, what? I don't know. I fed her. She slept until about 3am today.

Around 4:30am, she started to act a little crazy, mewing and mewing and driving me crazy. She'd eaten everything I had that was edible to a beast such as she. She wouldn't stop with the vocal practise.

At 5am, I took her downstairs, outside... and left her there.

She wailed a little. And then nothing. I died a little inside but I'm fine. I hope she is too. That or dead. Fine or a ghost.

If it doesn't lay eggs or produce milk and I can't eat it, what good is it?

I have this cat. Technically, she's still a kitten. Her name is Charlie, short for Charlotte which, if you take the time, you'll realise is very closely related to Carlos (Charles, my baby Passo), which is also very close to my English name (Which I loathe).

So, Charlie... I got her at City Market (Muindi Mbingu Street, Nairobi) when she was no more than three weeks old. I'd gone there to eat fruits one day, and having lost the first stray I'd rescued just a few days earlier, I was still very attuned to the mewing of a starving or stranded cat. I heard this high-pitched little squeak and thought, that I must still be missing the lost animal... then...

"This thing..." referring to the little kitten, "... bring it here and I'll kick it until it dies..."

When it 'cried' again, I had to go and look so, I went and found this little grey and white baby 'tiger' of a cat. She was so tiny, could barely see or hear and this guy - one of those that beg you to eat meat at their disgusting stalls - wanted to kill it. I took it in one hand. So small was it that I could wrap its entire body with the fingers of that one hand.

"Don't kill it," I told the lady who'd stashed it in a box. "Keep it until 4pm and I'll come take it. Where's the mother by the way?"

"The mother took all the other kittens and left this one," she explained. See, it was a market cat's baby. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I know now why little Charlie's mother abandoned her when she did.

Anyway, at 4:20pm that day, I returned to the market and carried Charlie in a fruit carton, all the way home. They'd thrown little bits of fish and mutton into the box and, hungry as she must've been, not having fed for four days, she devoured them fast as her little teeth and jaws could allow.

That was June 3rd, 2014.

She's now two weeks away from being a five-month-old kitten except. She's so big, eats all my food and destroys everything I hold dear. She doesn't know how to play gently. She bites or scratches and only to draw blood. No gentle playfulness about this beast. The only time she runs low on energy is when I have no food to give her. I thank God that bananas repulse her or I'd have nothing to eat, EVER!

I've tried a couple of times to let her wander and get lost only to hear her crying helplessly from wherever. Usually, I'll go rescue her and she'll scratch me in the process.

Today, before I left the house, I opened the front door hoping she'd wander away and never return. The one time I hoped she wouldn't show up again, she came right back to the front door, entered and refused to leave. Talk about prayers answered.

You see, when I let her out I'd told myself that if she didn't come back, I could finally let go, but, if she came back, then it meant that God wanted me to keep her and take care of her. I'm stuck with her now. The best I can do is avoid playing with her now so I can let the scratches I already have, heal. I have to have her spayed because I don't want any more kittens with "attitude" filling my house.

It kinda brings to light though the fact that I don't really like animals as much as I thought I did. They were always just there when I was growing up. Now my philosophy is, if it doesn't lay eggs or produce milk and I can't eat it, what good is it?