That Ain’t Yo Man, Woman!

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Every few months I come across this exact scenario.

A gorgeous, brilliant, awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping woman will walk her weepy self into a group of “close friends” and share her woes. It’s always something to do with this man she perceives as perfect. Being the skeptic I am, it usually takes me all of 23 seconds to immediately realize this guy is scum. Anyhow, she goes on dreaming about said perfect person until she gets to this line:

“…but he’s in a relationship.”

And then the weeping continues. Continue reading

Why Are You Fighting Your Real-World Battles On The Web?

I’m all for using the virtual space and integrating digital citizens and all that, but why do people bring their offline ish online? No, seriously, why?!? If I sent you an email, would you reply to my P.O.Box? Or if I wrote you a text message, why respond with a phone call? Well, okay, bad example, but you get my point, yes?

And no, I’m not talking about posts like this one, or this one, or this one. Good customer care should be a statutory right,  and decrying the lack thereof is a perfectly valid use of the interwebs. What I am talking about is people taking trolling to a whole new level by airing offline laundry on the net – clean or otherwise.

Laundry Continue reading

5 Lessons Mandela Taught Me

Here’s the thing: hate it or love it, Nelson Mandela is a 94 year old phenomenon of a man. He’s done more for more people in his silence than many leaders have done yelling at the top of their lungs on podiums to full stadia. Because, as the age old adage goes, actions speak pretty loudly.

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And now, he finds himself nearing the end of the road, and still not kicking the bucket while the media gives us minute by minute readings of his life-support machines. I try to focus less on what would happen if he died and more on what his life has taught me. I’m going to use a mishmash of his quotes, hip-hop quotes, pictures and random stories because the internet loves things like that. Continue reading

“So They Didn’t Kill Them?”

Ed: It might help to read: “They killed them?” first

It’s funny how things pan out, isn’t it?

I had called John as we left my mothers apartment building and told him to come pick us up from the road outside. Even he seemed confused as to why I would wait for him outside. The thing is, we needed to go to the shop right outside to buy pesticides and some other item I forget so it only made sense. By the time we got down and had purchased the goods, he would be there. Or so we thought.

We had to wait a few minutes. Couldn’t have possibly been 10 minutes but a lot can happen in 10 minutes. A lot can happen in 2 minutes in fact; and I’ll give you an example. In two minutes, a motorcycle with 3 young men on it can ride by you. The man behind the handles can pull out a duct taped pistol (looked like a 9mm) as two others begin to offload you of…well, everything. They can get in your pockets and that of the lady behind you and pick everything they can carry off you. Then they can ride off and leave you destitute. Then you will remember every smart idea you had two minutes earlier for two minutes afterwards.

Continue reading

“They Killed Them?”

Everybody has a story.

This is primarily why given half a chance to get to know someone, I take it. Cab drivers are my favorite people to interact with. With the hours lost to traffic in this city, that time feels less wasted if you can learn even one new thing, make a new friend as your life gains a new dimension. One of my favorite cabbies, let’s call him John, hangs around the Ngong Road/Kilimani area quite a bit.

One day we found ourselves waiting for a larger group of people at Prestige Mall and he decided that we had ample time to get his car washed. So into Kibera we went, greeting miscellaneous folk on the road, the old lady that sells fruits, the kids who split into two groups and reenact AFC vs Gor every weekend, that random cop who we gave a ride when his cavalry was late and he had resulted to walk the distance. We waved, exchanged a word or three and then moved toward the “Car Wash”.

It technically wasn’t a car wash, just a place where these 7 or so youngsters hung around washing cars, listening to music and talking shit all day. I had only had the pleasure of talking to 4 of them, but not for lack of trying. They didn’t trust me. I wasn’t from there. They washed the car with no incident and at an extreme discount, returning lost monies – coins and notes alike – that had found themselves under the seats and in between consoles. He told them I would bring my car next time and we parted ways. Continue reading

Hug Like a Champion

Ezekiel Kemboi won our lovely country its first gold medal in the London 2012 Olympics. It was an ecstatic moment, not just for all Kenyans but for Kemboi himself. Certainly, no one foresaw the celebration that would follow Kemboi’s victory. Some have called it an embarrassing show of bromance.., which can be forgiven given that Kenyans were really praying to register their first gold medal at the games. Kemboi delivered.., not just the gold, but a show as well.

While we can’t show you how to dance like Kemboi,  we can at least show you how to hug like only he can.

So first..,

Run like you stole something

Two..,

Win.., but don’t smile just yet.

Three..,

Play dead.., to confuse your enemies.

Four..,

Ask God to forgive you for what you’re about to do

Five…,

Get up and do the dance of your people

Six..,

Find an unsuspecting French guy and pretend you want to shake hands

Seven..,

Suddenly jump on the French guy.., shirtless.

Eight..,

Give the French guy your shirt and let him swing it in the air.., like you just don’t care!

Nine..,

*cough* “Okay kids, cover your eyes”

Ten..,

Wear your mate’s shirt with a name most Kenyans cannot pronounce

And that’s how to hug like a champion.

But if it’s too much for you..,

You can always air out stuff.