The protagonist that returns after an incredibly astonishing and enlightening stint in some outside country to find that many of his ways and means are irreconcilable with those in his homeland is a staple in African lit. Almost every writer that belongs to the venerable Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o-esque guard has had something to say about this character.
I recently bumped into one such protagonist.
Yes, in real life.
He’d been back for about two years when our paths re-crossed. We were in the same class at some point but never really had much of a relationship. Let’s just say he was a gregarious and charismatic mixer—one of those born-to-mesmerize types—and I was, well, I was one of those insufferable and shrinkable low-growing Violas. Continue reading
This is the latest installment of “Atypical Tuesday”; random stories that have become a regular feature because…well, you asked for it. Enjoy.
Last Tuesday morning, I reminisced on the nudist freedoms that Adam and Eve had enjoyed with envy as I got dressed for a series of big meetings. Vest, shirt, tie, sweater, slacks, socks, shoes, coat. Toothbrush, comb, cologne, nail cutter.
Clothed and groomed, I depart. As I exit the complex, a nice lady in a linen gown and petticoat asked me if I would be so kind to escort her offspring to his bus stop in town, seeing as she was ‘running late’. I didn’t think it responsible at all to let a child go to school alone, but I thought it even more irresponsible to entrust me with a mini-person. Continue reading
OK, this didn’t happen on a Tuesday, but seeing as my last random story was on a Tuesday, I figured what the heck?
Where do I begin. Hmm… Well, Mama iCon has super powers; the eeriest of which is her laser eyes.
She’s always wearing glasses but when she takes them off, human beware. Her lasers can read your thoughts, check what you ate for lunch, tell if you’re lying….Or they can burn a hole in your soul. You don’t want to be on the wrong side of the laser eyes. Doesn’t matter how tall or small you are. I’m close to 6ft, she’s closer to 5. She could still turn me into a pile of ash given half a reason. And she’d turn a midget into a pile of ash too given a smaller reason. A smaller pile of ash albeit, but he’d still be lasered to nothingness. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen.
So when she asked me to go renew my brother’s Driver’s License, I had to be careful how I said ‘No’. In fact, I had to careful not to say no. At some point, I even got scared to say yes. So I didn’t say anything, I just stood there knowing she knew what I knew and that I was powerless. Continue reading
I’m not in the habit of having rust sharpened Machetes balanced on my Adam’s Apple on hot Tuesday afternoons.
But I guess there’s a first time for everything. Continue reading
Disclaimer: Do not read this while eating or if you have a weak stomach.
My tummy was so upset this morning that I didn’t even have my trademark cup of black coffee(a.k.a. Diesel). Instead, I showered, brushed my teeth, got dressed, dabbed some cologne on and headed to work.
Half an hour later, I was in a KBS shuttle wondering why I hadn’t invested in a bazooka yet. I could use it to clear traffic during my morning commute, plus nobody would mug a guy walking around with a bazooka and a bag full of ammo. As I visualized explosions, mayhem and clear roads, an evil smirk crept across my face and my eyes lit up. A driver in the car next to me stared back in fear.
That’s when my daydream halted and the morning went sour. I saw one of those City Council inspectors, strolling down the isle. Well, I didn’t see him, per se.
The smell of January’s sweat fermenting in his armpits as well as a distinctly 2009 stench from his clothes bitch-slapped me across the face. Continue reading
The object in life is to garner enough things, material and otherwise, that will increase your self-importance and self-gratification. You must do this while you’re still young such that, once you get old, these things save you from being an angry old grouch.
It is my stark belief that this epiphany causes our under-accomplished elders to take out their frustrations on the rest of the world.
It is in this same world that a young, fly African dwells. That African is me, and today I was jumping out of my 2009 Audi A6 driver seat on a hot Kenyan day looking cooler than Nordic designer ice cubes.
Now, I must clarify, by “my Audi” I mean “somebody else’s Audi that I was driving”, Continue reading