Monday, May 12, 2008
THE CURSED TRIBE
Dear, dear, dear. I don't know and I'm not saying what I don't know or haven't noticed but one section of Kenya is very prone to disaster especially when traveling home to bury one of their own.
Now last week, not very long ago, one of those buses that take you to Nyanza and Western Provinces through Naivasha and Eldoret crushed. Again. This is only a few months after another Matatu Van crushed with the same results. A death among the passengers who were going to bury their dead. Is it that they are cursed or is the road bad or is it that the drivers from those areas are always drunk? No. I don't think so. The driver involved in the most recent accident was totally and completely sober. One could tell from the way he was talking on TV. And lucky for him, his time had not yet come. He escaped without a scratch.
These guys were going to bury one body, but by the afternoon, they had to plan for two bodies.
Is there something these people know and are not telling us?
Now last week, not very long ago, one of those buses that take you to Nyanza and Western Provinces through Naivasha and Eldoret crushed. Again. This is only a few months after another Matatu Van crushed with the same results. A death among the passengers who were going to bury their dead. Is it that they are cursed or is the road bad or is it that the drivers from those areas are always drunk? No. I don't think so. The driver involved in the most recent accident was totally and completely sober. One could tell from the way he was talking on TV. And lucky for him, his time had not yet come. He escaped without a scratch.
These guys were going to bury one body, but by the afternoon, they had to plan for two bodies.
Is there something these people know and are not telling us?
ATWOLI, THE MOUTH WITH A MAN
If you ask me, one very talkative Francis Atwoli, is attracting snipers. The COTU Secretary General, spoke on May 1, 2008, Labour Day, bad mouthing Nakumatt Chain of supermarkets. He mentioned that their employees worked overtime, with no lunch and got Kshs, 4,000 salaries. He added that customers were cheated with little blue cards (smart cards) and told that if they used the card, they would be charged less.
Mr. Atwoli then very cheekily said that if anyone comes after him, Baba (President Kibaki) is there to protect him.
In the news, on the evening of Labour Day, a Nakumatt official claimed that employees get breakfast, lunch, and tea in the evening, Nakumatt official clarified that employees get breakfast, lunch and tea at night. The least that anyone earns according to him is Kshs. 16,000 and even more if they work overtime.
The other day, some politician or union worker or other said that what the Nakumatt official had said was false. Who is right? And how much do people at Nakumatt earn?
Atwoli, we love you but I hope no one will dot o you what was done to Chesoni.
Njeri
Saturday, May 10, 2008
The moment has come
Me and David went to Campus. I was meant to go to class but instead, we ended up going to the benches in the parking and taking pictures. My camer only had the capacity for 8 Pictures so I maximised the opportunity by only saving the pictures I though were the best seeing as my memory card was jammed.
This Picture actually looks like a painting. I call it:
Rainy May
Friday, May 09, 2008
And The Nightmare Continues
Today has been an awful, depressing day. The kinda days I like.
I woke up late to come to work. That’s been happening a lot lately.
Then I get into the shower, start to soap myself really well and then just when I’m white with foam all over, the water lessens kidogo, kidogo (little by little) then it gets really hot and bila (without) pressure, then finally it runs out. So I chuck form the shower scalded and soapy all over!!!!
What can I do? The reservoir tank is empty. No water anywhere and going to the neighbours is out of the question. So I take my towel and wipe off the foam and dress up. I mean, what else can I do? Then, as I am going to put the kettle on so that I can have some tea, the lights disappear! Jinx?!! I don’t know. What’s happening?
So I leave the house open for the House Keeper to come clean at around 9am. I’m hungry, my skin feels crusty cause of the soap and the only thing that can cheer me up is my beloved fluffy, but No! He doesn’t even come to me when I call. He looks at me without even lifting his head up from his paws on the ground. Okay, maybe he’s had as rough a night as I have, so I leave him alone and walk on out of the gate to catch my matatu (van used for public transport in Kenya). I get one almost immediately and I begin to think that the unlucky streak is over, but No. Something else awaits me.
Before I get to work, I go the guy that sold me the memory stick for my camera so that maybe, he can get me one that stores more than 30 pictures. He apparently, does not have a IGB memory stick and gives me 512MB one which will hardly suffice for the kind of work I’m planning to do. Besides, I already paid him enough for a 1GB one so he should be giving me two, instead, he tells me to take the 512 MB one and test drive it. I’ll go later to get see if he has nice new ones.
Anyway, I head on to work and guess what, the guards at the entrance ignore me, my desk which I share with about 79 other people is occupied and I’m wondering how the hell I’m expected to work if I don’t have a work station.
Next, I don’t even sit for five minutes and I’m already getting calls and emails that my beloved is the guy I have written about in my blog. He's been called too and wants to know if he can read my blog. Oh well, I say yes and sera sera. And here I am writing this right now wondering why I even mind the negativity in my life.
One thing is for sure. Whenever good things happen to me, I thank God for them and appreciate them with all of my heart for the short time that I know I will have with them. That, in my opinion is what makes life so damn interesting for me. The good things are boring, the bad things are exciting, and they define who I am, because in spite of all the bad stuff that I go through, I still manage to stay afloat and keep the little good part of me safe and locked up, where no one can interfere with it.
So thanks all you shit heads, for hating me, for mocking me, for insulting me, for destroying every good thing I work for and trying to mess up every good freindship I build up. Thanks a whole lot. You are the people that make me work all the harder and become all the more successful and satisfied with myself. Thank you
Hurrah to all you shit-heads!
I woke up late to come to work. That’s been happening a lot lately.
Then I get into the shower, start to soap myself really well and then just when I’m white with foam all over, the water lessens kidogo, kidogo (little by little) then it gets really hot and bila (without) pressure, then finally it runs out. So I chuck form the shower scalded and soapy all over!!!!
What can I do? The reservoir tank is empty. No water anywhere and going to the neighbours is out of the question. So I take my towel and wipe off the foam and dress up. I mean, what else can I do? Then, as I am going to put the kettle on so that I can have some tea, the lights disappear! Jinx?!! I don’t know. What’s happening?
So I leave the house open for the House Keeper to come clean at around 9am. I’m hungry, my skin feels crusty cause of the soap and the only thing that can cheer me up is my beloved fluffy, but No! He doesn’t even come to me when I call. He looks at me without even lifting his head up from his paws on the ground. Okay, maybe he’s had as rough a night as I have, so I leave him alone and walk on out of the gate to catch my matatu (van used for public transport in Kenya). I get one almost immediately and I begin to think that the unlucky streak is over, but No. Something else awaits me.
Before I get to work, I go the guy that sold me the memory stick for my camera so that maybe, he can get me one that stores more than 30 pictures. He apparently, does not have a IGB memory stick and gives me 512MB one which will hardly suffice for the kind of work I’m planning to do. Besides, I already paid him enough for a 1GB one so he should be giving me two, instead, he tells me to take the 512 MB one and test drive it. I’ll go later to get see if he has nice new ones.
Anyway, I head on to work and guess what, the guards at the entrance ignore me, my desk which I share with about 79 other people is occupied and I’m wondering how the hell I’m expected to work if I don’t have a work station.
Next, I don’t even sit for five minutes and I’m already getting calls and emails that my beloved is the guy I have written about in my blog. He's been called too and wants to know if he can read my blog. Oh well, I say yes and sera sera. And here I am writing this right now wondering why I even mind the negativity in my life.
One thing is for sure. Whenever good things happen to me, I thank God for them and appreciate them with all of my heart for the short time that I know I will have with them. That, in my opinion is what makes life so damn interesting for me. The good things are boring, the bad things are exciting, and they define who I am, because in spite of all the bad stuff that I go through, I still manage to stay afloat and keep the little good part of me safe and locked up, where no one can interfere with it.
So thanks all you shit heads, for hating me, for mocking me, for insulting me, for destroying every good thing I work for and trying to mess up every good freindship I build up. Thanks a whole lot. You are the people that make me work all the harder and become all the more successful and satisfied with myself. Thank you
Hurrah to all you shit-heads!
Drama, Drama, Drama
It's not even 11am yet and I've had more drama than a mexican soap. No violence like in the Kungu Fu movies, but the violence I'm imaging doing right now is making me look tired in the face.
I think to0 much, I think so bloody much, but the weather is in my favour. It's gloomy and grey, just the way I like it. So I'm thinking how I've destroyed my life in one short day. Yesterday that is.
I've messed my mind up, created tension between me and about 50 of my friends, can't stand to be near anyone for more than a second...and yet I've managed to do so much within a day, the productive and the destructive, but more of the productive stuff. Think I should be depressed and sad more often, it seems to give me the drive I need to get things done.
Anyway, I have this friend right, (you know who you are) and then there's this person (major stalker-you know who you are too, and If I catch you I'll feed you to my dog) who reads my blogs and then calls my very good friend and tells him that my blogs are about him.
Listen here buster, while my blogs are mostly about true people and happenings, 70% per cent is just fictional spice-up to get you to read the damn blog. I know you like it, that's why I do it. Whack!
So whoever you are, go ahead, read my damn blog, read all you want and leave a comment if you want to, call my friend even, and tell him that the blogs I post are about him, do, please do, but when I catch you, I (what Achmed the dead terrorist said) you, and feed you to my dog's flees.
I've just decided that you are too crappy to be eaten by my dog. He's too cool for you.
And Nigger, thanks for making my day crappy.
Perhaps I'll get return the favour some day.
Peace out!
I think to0 much, I think so bloody much, but the weather is in my favour. It's gloomy and grey, just the way I like it. So I'm thinking how I've destroyed my life in one short day. Yesterday that is.
I've messed my mind up, created tension between me and about 50 of my friends, can't stand to be near anyone for more than a second...and yet I've managed to do so much within a day, the productive and the destructive, but more of the productive stuff. Think I should be depressed and sad more often, it seems to give me the drive I need to get things done.
Anyway, I have this friend right, (you know who you are) and then there's this person (major stalker-you know who you are too, and If I catch you I'll feed you to my dog) who reads my blogs and then calls my very good friend and tells him that my blogs are about him.
Listen here buster, while my blogs are mostly about true people and happenings, 70% per cent is just fictional spice-up to get you to read the damn blog. I know you like it, that's why I do it. Whack!
So whoever you are, go ahead, read my damn blog, read all you want and leave a comment if you want to, call my friend even, and tell him that the blogs I post are about him, do, please do, but when I catch you, I (what Achmed the dead terrorist said) you, and feed you to my dog's flees.
I've just decided that you are too crappy to be eaten by my dog. He's too cool for you.
And Nigger, thanks for making my day crappy.
Perhaps I'll get return the favour some day.
Peace out!
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Suckin' it up. Yeap!
Well, I felt so badly about the boyfriend thing but still I had to do what I had to do.
See I have this articles of mine pending since three weeks ago. So, I took my things and headed for EXTREME VIDEOS. That's on the 6th floor of Hazina Towers near Goethe Institute. So then I got there and watched the Constant Gardener, noting the main messages in the Movie then paid the fifty shillings required. EXTREME VIDEOS is an awesome place. They have row upon row of television sets with a pair of headphones and a DVD player plugged in to it. You get a TV set of your own and you can sit back, relax and enjoy the movie you have always wanted to watch. A place you must visit if one love movies but can't afford to watch them on big screen theatres.
Anyway, when that was done. I went to the car park within Hazina and took a couple of photographs of Uhuru Park and Highway. They were awesome pictures too. Here's a sample.
Next, I came back to my desk but a distraction came along and I had to move. So I went to a quiet little place that no one but me knows about and typed out my report, refering from time to time to some articles about Dypraxa and The Constant Gardener. When I thought it was done, I remembered that I had five books to return to the Library, by the end of today otherwise, I would have to pay a fine.
So off I went with my heavy bag of books. A friend took me all the way to the University but I didn't want or need his company at that time I was very distraught. He left me at the entrance and I was relieved to be alone at last. On my way to the library, I noted a man who was selling snacks near the grassy area we, students like to call "The Park", Situated to the west of the Nairobi University Bookshop. So on my way back, I picked two sausages and a hot dog, which I devoured quickly. I asked the man if I could take a picture of him. He was very cooperative and even paused for the picture.
When that was done, I came back towards the office, tears stinging my eyes. I had accomplished all I had set out to do for that day and only one thing remained. Going to the bathroom for a good cry. So I went, got my handbag and the rest of my treasures then ended up in the bathroom.
But Lo! There was someone in the other cubicle. So I sucked it up until she had left, then I let it rip, the ocean behind my eyes. Tears came full force for about one and a half minutes, and I couldn't breathe properly, nor could I cry with sound, but I sniffed and sniffed some more.
When that was done, I looked at the pictures I had taken and saw that out of the three, only one was good and clear. Still have them here and wondering what I should do.
Thought my nightmares were over but here is something else.
Oh God! This is too much. I just found out by accident from one of my friends that one of my other friend has a girlfriend who shares his taste in music and who when she calls, my friend disappears completely. How terribly sad. Once again, I'm alone.
Why do I bother making friends?
Sera Sera
See I have this articles of mine pending since three weeks ago. So, I took my things and headed for EXTREME VIDEOS. That's on the 6th floor of Hazina Towers near Goethe Institute. So then I got there and watched the Constant Gardener, noting the main messages in the Movie then paid the fifty shillings required. EXTREME VIDEOS is an awesome place. They have row upon row of television sets with a pair of headphones and a DVD player plugged in to it. You get a TV set of your own and you can sit back, relax and enjoy the movie you have always wanted to watch. A place you must visit if one love movies but can't afford to watch them on big screen theatres.
Anyway, when that was done. I went to the car park within Hazina and took a couple of photographs of Uhuru Park and Highway. They were awesome pictures too. Here's a sample.
Next, I came back to my desk but a distraction came along and I had to move. So I went to a quiet little place that no one but me knows about and typed out my report, refering from time to time to some articles about Dypraxa and The Constant Gardener. When I thought it was done, I remembered that I had five books to return to the Library, by the end of today otherwise, I would have to pay a fine.
So off I went with my heavy bag of books. A friend took me all the way to the University but I didn't want or need his company at that time I was very distraught. He left me at the entrance and I was relieved to be alone at last. On my way to the library, I noted a man who was selling snacks near the grassy area we, students like to call "The Park", Situated to the west of the Nairobi University Bookshop. So on my way back, I picked two sausages and a hot dog, which I devoured quickly. I asked the man if I could take a picture of him. He was very cooperative and even paused for the picture.
When that was done, I came back towards the office, tears stinging my eyes. I had accomplished all I had set out to do for that day and only one thing remained. Going to the bathroom for a good cry. So I went, got my handbag and the rest of my treasures then ended up in the bathroom.
But Lo! There was someone in the other cubicle. So I sucked it up until she had left, then I let it rip, the ocean behind my eyes. Tears came full force for about one and a half minutes, and I couldn't breathe properly, nor could I cry with sound, but I sniffed and sniffed some more.
When that was done, I looked at the pictures I had taken and saw that out of the three, only one was good and clear. Still have them here and wondering what I should do.
Thought my nightmares were over but here is something else.
Oh God! This is too much. I just found out by accident from one of my friends that one of my other friend has a girlfriend who shares his taste in music and who when she calls, my friend disappears completely. How terribly sad. Once again, I'm alone.
Why do I bother making friends?
Sera Sera
Boyfriend Trouble
It could be the paranoia that I know I happen to have that's causing these thoughts, I don't know, I'm not sure. And maybe I am too snoopy. But I have come upon a piece of evidence that if clarified and investigated further.
I am hurt, I mean, anyone in my position would be. I'm ashamed to say this but it's the only way to get it out of my system at this moment since my so called best friend declared his undying love for me and I can't wrap my mind around that.
Just one guy, any guy, tell me something. Do you think when you're telling someone you love them? I can't believe it when someone says they care deeply about me. I can't believe it when someone tells me they love me, and this is why. I for one never tell any man that I love them because I know for sure, that I don't. The word simply doesn't leave my lips unless I'm joking or referring to food.
My boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend (but he doesn't know it yet) is cheating on me with someone from my own office building. That's the second guy since last year that I'm waving bye bye to. Is it me? It must be me.
Last year, it took me 2 days to be suspicious of the guy, 2 weeks to feel something was wrong, 2 months to actually get him cheating on me and 2 more weeks after that to sever all manner of communications with him and get a new boyfriend. I was on the rebound.
So this year, my other boyfriend who almost never calls can't figure out why I don't want to talk to him. He forgets that one, he never calls me and I have gotten used to not talking to him so it seems normal to me, and two, he's the one cheating and appears baffled when I won't let him come near me (what is wrong with him...I think he's a pliable, moving rock with the ability to fuck but with no brain).
Is it that I am too busy and won't say yes to him. Or is he just the dogging type with the innocent boy face.
Or, is it that I always get into a relationship knowing that the guy will cheat and knowing that I'll be thrilled for the first two weeks and then totally bored with the guy after, knowing that we've exhausted all manner of things to talk about.
Is it me? No. I think it's him.
Definitely him.
How do I know that. A few weeks later, he's gonna come looking for me and saying he's sorry just like they all do because they all want one thing.
As I write this I'm looking at him and one very nasty song comes to mind:
Hate is a strong word
But I really, really, really don't like you.
Now that it's over,
I don't even know what I liked about you.
Brought you around
But you just brought me down
Hate is a strong word,
But I really,
Really,
Really don't like you.
Thanx Plain White Tee's, this song really takes me to heaven.
I am hurt, I mean, anyone in my position would be. I'm ashamed to say this but it's the only way to get it out of my system at this moment since my so called best friend declared his undying love for me and I can't wrap my mind around that.
Just one guy, any guy, tell me something. Do you think when you're telling someone you love them? I can't believe it when someone says they care deeply about me. I can't believe it when someone tells me they love me, and this is why. I for one never tell any man that I love them because I know for sure, that I don't. The word simply doesn't leave my lips unless I'm joking or referring to food.
My boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend (but he doesn't know it yet) is cheating on me with someone from my own office building. That's the second guy since last year that I'm waving bye bye to. Is it me? It must be me.
Last year, it took me 2 days to be suspicious of the guy, 2 weeks to feel something was wrong, 2 months to actually get him cheating on me and 2 more weeks after that to sever all manner of communications with him and get a new boyfriend. I was on the rebound.
So this year, my other boyfriend who almost never calls can't figure out why I don't want to talk to him. He forgets that one, he never calls me and I have gotten used to not talking to him so it seems normal to me, and two, he's the one cheating and appears baffled when I won't let him come near me (what is wrong with him...I think he's a pliable, moving rock with the ability to fuck but with no brain).
Is it that I am too busy and won't say yes to him. Or is he just the dogging type with the innocent boy face.
Or, is it that I always get into a relationship knowing that the guy will cheat and knowing that I'll be thrilled for the first two weeks and then totally bored with the guy after, knowing that we've exhausted all manner of things to talk about.
Is it me? No. I think it's him.
Definitely him.
How do I know that. A few weeks later, he's gonna come looking for me and saying he's sorry just like they all do because they all want one thing.
As I write this I'm looking at him and one very nasty song comes to mind:
Hate is a strong word
But I really, really, really don't like you.
Now that it's over,
I don't even know what I liked about you.
Brought you around
But you just brought me down
Hate is a strong word,
But I really,
Really,
Really don't like you.
Thanx Plain White Tee's, this song really takes me to heaven.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
CITY MARKET
The fishy smell is the first thing that hits your nose as you approach the entrance of the market.
AT The centre of Nairobi, Kenya, there is a market calle
d CITY MARKET. I was walking around the fish-smelling market when I came across a shop that sells ornamental mirrors, tea sets, chests and such like things. The owner of the shop, Ecdelis Musyoka, took me round the shop, giving exorbitant prices that he says are for the Mzungu.
When he saw the expression on my face however, he hastily informed me that bei ya mwafrika, of course haiwezi kuwa same na ya mtalii (the price of an African can never be the same with a Tourist's). It did not go down to the levels I expected though.
There was a mirror that was beautifully embeded there and he priced it at 8,000 because he had done the decorations himself and had fitten the rustic frame with great caution. That was the mzungu price. How about the mwafrika price. Believe it or not, he priced it at 7,000. Only 1000 less.
After listening to the differences in pricing that he gave his commodities, I gathered that people like him and his partner, would rather starve or die waiting for a white tourist to buy their stuff "at the right price" than to sell it at a cheaper price to a fellow African.
It seems embeded in our minds that the white man is the only rich man and an African, your brother cannot buy anything at the right price. Sad mentality and one which is destroying our nation slowly and surely.
Behaviours and beliefs such as these degrade us, force us to believe that we are poor, inferior, we then start to thing of ourselves in terms of communities. Some communities are richer than others. Some communities are boastful and like to buy expensive stuff. Silly things like these are what evolve us into tribalists, election hatred and violence. And only one person to blame.
The Damn colonizers. They did it then and they still do it now even without being the masters of our countries. They do it by financing the kinds of leaders they know they can manipulate.
All this from the City Market.
AT The centre of Nairobi, Kenya, there is a market calle
d CITY MARKET. I was walking around the fish-smelling market when I came across a shop that sells ornamental mirrors, tea sets, chests and such like things. The owner of the shop, Ecdelis Musyoka, took me round the shop, giving exorbitant prices that he says are for the Mzungu. When he saw the expression on my face however, he hastily informed me that bei ya mwafrika, of course haiwezi kuwa same na ya mtalii (the price of an African can never be the same with a Tourist's). It did not go down to the levels I expected though.
There was a mirror that was beautifully embeded there and he priced it at 8,000 because he had done the decorations himself and had fitten the rustic frame with great caution. That was the mzungu price. How about the mwafrika price. Believe it or not, he priced it at 7,000. Only 1000 less.
After listening to the differences in pricing that he gave his commodities, I gathered that people like him and his partner, would rather starve or die waiting for a white tourist to buy their stuff "at the right price" than to sell it at a cheaper price to a fellow African.
It seems embeded in our minds that the white man is the only rich man and an African, your brother cannot buy anything at the right price. Sad mentality and one which is destroying our nation slowly and surely.
Behaviours and beliefs such as these degrade us, force us to believe that we are poor, inferior, we then start to thing of ourselves in terms of communities. Some communities are richer than others. Some communities are boastful and like to buy expensive stuff. Silly things like these are what evolve us into tribalists, election hatred and violence. And only one person to blame.
The Damn colonizers. They did it then and they still do it now even without being the masters of our countries. They do it by financing the kinds of leaders they know they can manipulate.
All this from the City Market.
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