Monday, January 25, 2010


The new bed finally was delivered, its size she hadn’t considered, well it did not matter to her, hell as long as it wouldn’t hurt her, like he did, that idiot! The house has been peaceful, the bed less sinful, her life now taking swing in full She’s no longer that fool, so long her pool, she moved houses too, it wasn’t gonna haunt her, and anyway she had to flaunt her guts, just no one knows how deep down it hurts. See, down her heart, it flows deep: the love she had for him…………

Truth be said, she’s lonely, sometimes only wishing she choose truce instead, well so much for the good times . Now reality checks, she’s alone, her chastity breaks, you can’t blame her, the nights have since been so cold, so lame, her former knight now so gone, her loner plights now a trait!

He depreciated from her world, to her ex husband, word is she appreciated the sex and his hand, always had a way of unhooking that bra, touching the right places, during “sexcapades”, caressing, undressing, kissing, sexing, adoring her in ALL WAYS!! She passionately remembers how she rode on him, like a stallion, in his book she a star y’all J so steadily was her pace, December she was completely in his mode.

A real bad habit is how she picked him up, an acrobatic is how she flipped her up, the other man in her new bed, never knew, never will. To her, he doesn’t even come close, just another brother she’s seen to use, abuse, disregard and discard. Since the divorce, she’s been in remorse! Signing those papers wasn’t easy, but hard, even tricky but now done! She’s now residing where the haters would call, “greener pastures” what no one knows is that, she’s now deciding who to call, maybe her, “inner monsters?”

It’s 1st March, exactly three months after the separation, he marched on so fast, now free to misbehave, no more deportation. Not form his country but from her territory, he’s seen need to emancipate as well, more like a clean start, you know like purgatory! She knows that she’s supposed to have moved on but suppose she can’t get her groove on with anyone else? Even worse, she’s late, she’s PREGNANT!

Note: Written by sweet Anyiko, since part one was published here, it was only right to complete what was already started.

Saturday, January 23, 2010


‘Thou shall love your neighbour as you love yourself’ is, perhaps understandably, not the easiest commandment to keep especially if your neighbour is a pain in the… neck. So is it too much to ask of a person- to love unconditionally?

Before I can go any further I feel the need to clarify one thing which forms the basis of most of my arguments anywhere anytime, something which you may or may not agree with but hopefully it would make me better understood, but to not necessarily make you agree with me. As much as the world that we are living in is imperfect in every way, I still believe in perfectness (for lack of a better word) and the reality of it being achievable. Pure and perfect world peace, for example, is proclaimed impossible. I understand, but pure goodness does exist even if we have never ever experienced it or even heard of it. I believe in the absolute impossible in our world as we know it, which I refer to as perfect goodness.
That having been said- a truth that I’m not willing to give up, let us together explore the truth about love- pure, unconditional love. In this case for our neighbours, yes it has never been seen among men perhaps but it is there somewhere and the least we can do is try to find it and own it within ourselves and not allow anything or anyone to tamper with it. By keeping love in our hearts it will help keep us within the boundaries of the wider law which is responsible for our existence.

For example when the Muslims took to the streets and caused chaos that led to huge losses in the city of Nairobi not so long ago, Kenyans were peeved by the incident, and rightfully so. Anger is allowed, but to whom or what is the anger channeled? To the Muslims, those ungrateful Somali scumbags whom we allowed to live in our country and forgot, now they think they are equal citizens, them? How do you love such people? The only thing that is deservedly left for them is nothing less than hate, not just for those who participated in the riot but the whole bunch of them! Hate all of them, how can we tell the difference anyway? They are all Somali Muslims! Is that it? Anger is rapidly transformed to hate and before you know it the whole thing becomes personalized and people become profiled and a ‘wanted’ tag is hang on their neck. It’s so easy to become inebriated with these strong and turbulent emotions that subsequently lead us to holler abusive statements. At this point the initial wrong deed is forgotten and a specific group of people becomes a target as soon as they are labeled as the bad guys. This is by no means trying to redeem those Muslims or to imply that what they did was right or to accumulate sympathy for them. It’s to merely suggest that emotions should not be misunderstood or be exaggerated into something else, and especially not hate.

If anyone knows the slightest thing about perfectness and the whole story of purity, then he knows God and is very close to Him. And God himself gets annoyed with us sometimes if not all the time (because we sin all the time), does that make Him look at the individual wrongdoer differently? Does it make Him hate that person? I think not. So why not hate the evil deed and love the wrongdoer, is that reasonable? Just so we can be like God? When Jesus was in that church whipping the fear out of a crowd that had turned his Father’s house into a market place, kicking all their goods around, He did not at anytime think- I hate these people! But I know the response that this argument may fetch, let God be God and man be man, its hard enough being human as it is. There is no time to worry about such stuff, life is too short. We will all die and find out all the secrets of life after all.

Martin Luther King was a very extraordinary man, I think he believed in that state of pure goodness to be the ardent preacher of peace and pacifism that he was. He preached love and was himself confused I think, when he asked himself how anyone could find it in his human heart to love the white racist oppressors of their time. Many people found his call for love and peace as a counter for hatred directed to black people in America by racists as impractical and unreasonable. That ‘stupid’ belief that everything will fix itself one day by the power of that unconditional love, is what I’m talking about. That belief in that pure love and pure goodness has power over evil of any magnitude, that belief that would make people look at you and wished you came back to reality for your own good. But even in this belief one has to acknowledge that this world is imperfect and will never be perfect and neither will any of us, at least not in this life but it is not at all hopeless or naïve to believe that goodness will prevail over evil, this goodness powered by that pure love, that pure unconditional love. The idea behind it all is to mimic God, because He is pure and good.

So it is upon us all to practice that love and protect it from being distorted by our own judgment and
reasoning and emotions such as anger and pain. Injustices are going to be committed against us and we are not constrained into not seeking justice. Justice is good so it shall be granted to us and it shall prevail. There is nothing evil that shall ever conceive any lasting good. And in the final hour, it is goodness that shall emerge triumphant over evil. That’s just what love does, it brings forth goodness.

Thursday, January 21, 2010


I should stop doing this, I’ve been holding this fake smile for so long I can feel my facial muscles aching. I must look ridiculous right now, like a stupid clown who’s accidentally stepped on a live wire with the expression on his face looking like he just died! Okay, I’m relaxed now, this thing is like reflex I can’t remember how I came to having that static smile on my otherwise handsome face. From now on I’m going to be real enough, at least to my self, to not fake anything. If it’s not funny then its not funny. Life couldn’t be any more unfairer, how is it that there only two groups of people who have the most nothings to talk about- boring people and people with bad breath. Now I’m stuck here watching him go on and on but little does he know…

Which brings me to my other point, how doesn’t he know? I’m yawning after every two seconds yet I’m neither hungry nor sleepy, it’s my only display of body language that is authentic which naturally means it’s easy to see that it’s overwhelming me. I’m even trying to suppress it because I’m afraid having my mouth that wide and that frequently may lead to un-wanted foreign objects down my throat! I am not paying attention, can’t you see? How mild can I put this, if boredom were music, you’d be the best artist of all time, right there at the top. Can’t even make out what all the fidgeting I have been doing denotes, how the hell does this guy interact with them females?! Everyone knows them ladies don’t speak any other language better than they do body language. The clown must be single.
If he goes ahead to narrate another one of those movies or TV shows I am going to hold my breath until I drop dead. He’s not running his mouth now. He’s stopped. There it is, that awkward silence before another story sets in. The trick is to not say a word to avoid giving him a reason to keep going.

“And have you watched 2012?”

Should I answer this? Perhaps he’ll let it go if I just look at him and play deaf.

“Have you?”

Oookay, he won’t let it go. I guess that won’t work.


“Yeah, at the beginning it starts when this guy takes his kids camping…

I thought I just said I’ve watched that movie? I should just brace myself because that movie was looong, and seeing that he’s got a passion for detail it seems like I’m in for a very long ride. I could just stand up and walk away right now but we’re in my room. And what type of uncle would I be if I gave in to the urge of screaming the words “Get the hell outta my face!” to him, look at him. I’m just thankful he’s not my conscience, so I can still have real conversations with myself… in my head, like now. Yawn alert, suppress! Suppress! Oh, how else will he get the hint just let it. Oh, my. Where were we? Wait, where’s my phone I should check my Facebook inbox.

What is he laughing? Okay, I’ll let out a chuckle. Where is that damn phone, I need to keep my hands busy. I know Talliah has sent me something in my inbox anyway, I love that chic. Yawn, cover mouth! I must look like an Orang’-utan as I’m yawning. I’m getting tired, he’s sucking the energy out of me! Found you baby phone, come here.

Before I log in to Facebook and subsequently Twitter, lets fake a face that suggests attentiveness. Wow, he likes that yet what I’m wondering is how did he get that pimple on his cheek to become that big and red? He’s giving me a smile I think he’s going to tell a joke, giggle. Damn, by the look in his face I must have laughed a little too soon. And there goes the first truly funny thing, ha-ha. Look at his face now, he makes me laugh some more… Sis to my rescue, she delivers a message that mom wants nephew for something. Phew, now onto Facebook. This young man, but he’s okay he’s family.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010


According to this article (unfortunately, the link is currently unavailable) by Naomi Dunford titled why we’re broke and how to fix it which I found through this very resourceful blog, the modern human being seems to delegate more and more of his every day activities that are essential in sustaining a nourished existence to other specialist human beings. The modern man will rely on another man to grow his food, sew his garments, fix the roof of his house and so on contrary to the ancient man who did almost everything by himself. A modern man in turn specializes in another thing which he also does on the behalf of his fellow human beings. This makes the average human being of today extremely reliant on his mates and this, according to the earlier mentioned article, is what makes people broke today.

The idea may seem a little radical and unrealistic, even misguided, to most people of today’s world, primarily because it’s something we have not witnessed, possibly in our entire lives and thus do not attempt to take a shot at it because maybe the traditional way is working just fine for us or it hasn’t ever crossed our minds as a possibility. Just so I ensure we are on the same wave length, the idea I’m talking about is self-reliance in today’s human being. Imagine if you could generate your own electricity, recycle and treat your own drinking water, fix your own TV when something becomes wrong with it, wouldn’t that be something?

After reading Dunford’s article, which seemed to suggest that the way to financial freedom is through some degree of self-reliance, I appreciated the thought behind it but that’s just what it was to me until I recently watched on CNN’s Eco Solutions, where they featured an Egyptian young man in his early twenties who is taking a shot at realizing the idea. The Egyptian, who is said to have learned English from old newspapers and radio only, which is impressive in a non-English speaking country, makes his own cooking gas (two hours worth of cooking gas daily) from kitchen garbage, the by-products of that makes good manure. What’s even more fascinating is that it’s a rather simple phenomenon. In addition to that the Egyptian made himself a water heating system and a radio both of which use solar energy, all this cuts his electricity bill by half! Needless to say, he’s facing criticism in his own country from his neighbours who are not that much impressed and are skeptical about his energy saving/creation tactics. At least he is brave enough to try.

A man is not an island and we will always need one another but one thing I wish to not rely on another person is the generation of electricity. Not as long as KPLC (Kenya Power & Lighting Company) is treating us the way it is. This is something I have promised myself I would pursue, strike power bills off the utility bills list.

Currently as scientists are working day and night to come up with alternative environmentally friendly, cheap and renewable energy, biofuel has attracted significant attention. I’m mentioning biofuel here because it’s one of those things you can make at home from rotten plant material (I don’t want to bore you with technical terms). One form of biofuel is biodiesel which can be used as fuel in existing vehicles with little or no adaptation! In other words, you can make your own fuel for your car at home! It’s both simple and cheap. Give it a thought. So how self-reliant are you?

Monday, January 18, 2010


Hooray! My wish has been granted and I’m tagged once again by Rockhead to jot down what I would write in a letter to my sixteen year old self, now that boy desperately needs to hear from me. Hell, he needs to hear from someone because no one is paying attention! Rockhead I know I kind of solicited this tag from you, but God bless you for you have just saved a life.. or a future for that matter. Let’s make this happen…

Dear Me,

Dude, what’s up? I hope this letter finds you well, son. This is you from the future, I don’t have time to explain but just keep on reading, I just want to tip you on a few things and warn you on even fewer things but its for your own good. Plus you’ll love it, I know you do listen, it’s just that people don’t listen to you, right? Pardon me if the letter sounds a little too informal, well there you go, tip number one: pay attention in that English class when they teach you how to write letters. It’s a lot of crap but you’ll come to find out that you need that knowledge.

No kidding Wyndago, on a more serious note here is warning number one; that notebook you keep, boy, please hide it. Trust those instincts you’re having, mom is snooping around your room when you’re at school, she’ll find it. With all those mean things you wrote about her in it, you don’t want her to find it. Stop it, I know what you’re thinking- I’m you! You think you don’t care but wait til you see her when she confronts you with the book in her hands and tears rolling down her cheeks, that sight will stick in your head forever and all over sudden it won’t be a so-what typa thing. You need to grow up, and you will. At an incredibly faster than usual pace, I must say, but you must begin that journey now. Don’t argue with mom, she loves you. She’s wrong too but she loves you. You are going to have a nice relationship with her.

Now listen, right about now you’re thinking about leaving that girl… which girl you ask? You thought I was playing, huh? Don’t test me again, just do the reading. That long-term girlfriend of yours- Ruth. But you don’t have a reason to do it you’re just bored, so you are going to just cut communication and avoid her. Well, I’m not stopping you just go ahead but there is something you don’t realize at the moment. At around my time you two will be brought together by a rather bizarre coincidence and you will find out that she never forgot the whole thing whilst it was nothing to you. You’ll hurt her big, boy. I want to be friends with her now but she can’t, I think. Just make sure you’re willing to pay that price. Urgh, you’re you, what do you care? Go crazy.

I want to fill you in on something very important now, I want to confirm to you that the rumours are right. Mrs. Nindo, the English teacher has got AIDS! No, actually it’s HIV. Don’t wear that face now, it’s not like she’s going to die, and besides we’re all going to die. That woman is a strong woman, I know it’s a shocker to you that the grapevine is accurate because you don’t pay attention to them but it turns out it is this time. In my time, Mrs. Nindo has come out and is speaking out about the disease overtly. She was on National TV on some HIV/AIDS documentary, she was awesome. Mad respect for that woman, be extra nice in her class so that she may remember your face in my present time. Be the one to rub the board for her or something… but you’re just one timid boy, sigh.

Mister, you are a good kid… with a bad temper, get rid of the temper and just be plain good. Good news is that you will get rid of it. Boy, I’m so proud of you, you God-fearing fellow. God is going to make the best out of you, and there is no limit as to how best you can be. That is still into my future, I know because I received a letter like this one myself, from the future. Our elder brother says we do just fine.

PS: Tell Sis to not eat so much, she’s going to weigh about one two hundred pounds! You on the other hand are very sexy, incase you’re wondering.

Yours truly,

Saturday, January 16, 2010


Yesterday, after the usual Friday prayers, Muslims left Jamia mosque which is located right at the heart of Nairobi city and took to the streets to demonstrate over the detention of a Jamaican Muslim cleric who is currently held by government authorities over crimes of allegedly spreading messages of hate against non-Muslims and is said to be connected to the infamous terror group Al-Qaeda. The man who government officials say entered Kenya through the Kenya-Tanzania border is also believed to have charges awaiting him back home in Jamaica. Muslims in Kenya were not pleased with the idea of his detention and without a warning a demonstration cum riot emerged. It turned out to be one bloody affair, no really, I mean Nairobi’s central business district was turned into a small war zone. Two people lost their lives. The violence had escalated and bloomed into a Muslims Vs Christians war when other civilians joined the police in fighting the rioting Muslims, the cause for the demonstration was then quickly forgotten, or perhaps another cause was acquired and an Al Shabab flag was spotted among the protestors.

His name is Abdullah Al-Faizul, that Jamaican Sheikh. It’s such a noble thing the Muslims did though, I think, if at all they were right in doing what they did. I think it as a great gesture of love and solidarity to a fellow human being, again, if at all the Jamaican is innocent and indeed his rights were violated, since the ‘innocent’ man they were ‘fighting’ for was not even ‘one of their own’, he is from another land! And what they were concerned with was for justice to prevail and the religion of the man was not that much of an issue. But violence like that witnessed in Nairobi yesterday is not acceptable to me and I believe to most Kenyans regardless of religion. Therefore, those barbaric acts of violence are condemnable by at least my standards. I’m not conversant with much of the teachings of Islam but I am certain that Islam does not condone such acts, if I’m not wrong. If the above is true, then Muslims being such ardent advocates of justice will distant themselves from the crimes that were committed and denounce the riots as this was not their initial plan, they will do all this to redeem the religion of Islam and show the whole world that all they truly want is justice for all human beings and not only Muslims. That will teach all of us the greatest teaching of all- to love one another without prejudice.

Then again, perhaps the Muslims saw the Jamaican as one of their own- a Muslim. Let’s say religion won over patriotism. At that moment other Kenyans cease to be brothers and sisters. The Jamaican Muslim becomes the brother. Naturally as human beings, when your brother is in trouble in foreign territory you will always take his side whether he is wrong or right. Even if you can admit he was wrong, you would prefer to beg to take him home and punish him yourself the way you see fit, but you will not abandon him, because he is your brother. Sometimes, if the situation calls for it, the people who hold your brother captive become the enemy at that moment until you save your brother and go punish him yourself or otherwise. If at all the Muslim saw Faizul as a brother, then the government of Kenya which represents the people of Kenya, the same one that is holding their brother becomes the enemy. For civilians to help the police, that makes civilians enemies. If this second hypothesis is true, then the Muslims may still be right as human beings to naturally want their brother free but lose points on being justice seekers, assuming Faizul has not broken any law here in Kenya or abroad. For if he is wanted for any offence it is only right for Muslims to let the law take its course, whether or not he is one of them- a Muslim. If they do not let the law work, they damage the name of Islam as a just religion for they are not a special people, at least not here in Kenya.

Shifting from the question of whether or not the Muslims were right in what they did, what scared me during and after the riots was the profiling and hatred that is slowly brewing up. It is so frightening to see how we could live together as one people without noticing any differences in us only for the subtlest of differences as religion to suddenly be magnified to humongous magnitudes as to cause violence amongst ourselves! That scares me.

Friday, January 15, 2010


The Sanctum is one year old! That makes me almost as excited as I would be if it were my birthday! It’s a miracle that this blog is still standing and I’m incredibly exhilarated about that fact. I absolutely love this blog, especially what it is now as compared to what it used to be, from its new url, new username, new template and few but very worthy new readers especially those who leave ‘educated’ comment(s). Thank you all very much (this is starting to feel like a grammy award acceptance speech). This may also be an opportune time to thank the twins of the Kenyan blogosphere, the duo that was there in the beginning, fellow bloggers who have been such an inspiration to me… and they are… *drum rolls*…. Shiko-Msa and Mama. Thank you guys.
The Sanctum wasn’t much when it began but I think it’s grown and matured into something beautiful, the place where I can just be and let it all out. The place I can just swim and wallow in my words (the rhyming- that happens occasionally when I feel poetic like right now).

If The Sanctum was a place, it would be something close to what Mr. Michuki envisions Nairobi to be, a place of quiet and peace yet buzzing with activity. If The Sanctum were to be a person, well, it would be me. If it were to be a car, it would be a Bentley. If it were a machine then it would be a… umm, what the heck, I don’t know. You fill in the blank. All I know is I want to say the best things about this blog like I wasn’t the one writing it so that I can come back and read this and act surprised and pleased like I’m not the one who wrote this post! Just like how I sent myself Christmas cards, trust me, it works the same as when you receive them from another person.

Without further ado, let’s get on with the show, The most popular post I ever wrote until now judging by number of comments, to my surprise, was the one I bashed Safaricom in. Popularest by far! It got 29 comments. Maybe less if you subtract my own comments but still… people have got issues with that mobile phone company. I would also bestow that post with the ‘Most Informative Post On The Sanctum’ award, because of the amount of constructive information every comment added to the debate. I want to the thank everyone who contributed to the comments. It’s a double win for that post.

The ‘Most Bitter Post’ award, I think that would go to the one which begs for permission to save the day. What caused the bitterness, you wonder? I would tell you but I want you to find out for yourself but you can easily guess, they are the leading source of bitterness on the planet, ironically and arguably also the leading source of joy. You can read this post to contrast, where there may still be bitterness but not on my side, it’s a dilemma.

The most passionate post… and the award goes to ‘HIV/AIDS And My People’, a post for my sick but alive brothers and sisters and a tribute to all those who succumbed. I love you all.

The Most hilarious post this past blogging year was, be silent now here it comes, don’t even walk… this post! I do not write many funny posts so this may be as funny as I can get, or perhaps we will find out this blogging year. And if I’m not funny then I just might have a new entry in my list of facts that I just won’t accept!

Last but not least, I’m going to say right now I’m sick of talking- the sternest post. And that brings us to the end of this prestigious ceremony

I’m so thankful this day fell on a Saturday, Aloha everyone! It means hallo but I just felt the need to use that word. I need to rush to the spot and celebrate…

Tuesday, January 12, 2010


That bed was more than just a bed to her. In her head it was more than just giving head… but more like just a band. You know where songs & games were played, not anyhow with rubber band but with rubber. Most nights, it was touchdown as he touched her down…… down south. & she played it down. In her head the bed was a haven, where memories were made. A heaven where babies were made, just no one knew one day it would all cascade….

All the still years and she dint even know whether she loved him. After all the tears and she still dint even know whether she loathed him. Well, his T-shirt is what she loved. Long, short or tight always fit well for the night and made her feel secure. She loved him in Shirts and shorts too, he dint know love well but craved her in two things, short skirts and at night in his T-shirt. It made him feel brave and pure ….

What she hated was that shit he constantly repeated, cheating on her. What she debated was those sheets she consistently changed. The downside, burn them up or let the feelings burn inside? See like Chingy, every time she tried to leave something kept holding her back and he said she was clingy. See like Ashanti, every time she got the strength to leave the house, he always told her that she was his need. Felt like, home turned into a shanty.

So its hard to let go of the years, so she’s mad she let the tears flow. So its harder to pack her bags and leave, so he heard her cry in the back of the room,saw her eye bags & he fears…. that he had her in that same room bt she gon leave using that sane route.She decides, that one day is no day but today to be precise. She can’t leave coz that cunt will take over her bed!! Instead she will just make him leave, the homestead will & must breath…

She regrets that the marriage was speedy, she bets they were needy. Till death do us part, now she would die to be apart. It will be long processing a divorce, but it’s a process she devotes all her longing.So he is moving out, she is moving on. You see, like Usher its like moving mountains. She is certain she will usher the new beginning.The love making was great not demeaning but there lies a greater meaning after such heart breaking!!You see, one more speedy thing she doesn’t wanna be dependent on his shit, his bed, sheets and nets!! no more. Miss independent got it on speed dial, she’s calling Barnettes …….

Note: This blog post was written by anyiko who was nice to let me republish it on The Sanctum. You can find the original post here. I just loved this so much!

Saturday, January 9, 2010


It is always a great pleasure for me to get tagged but before I attend to that I want to announce that this blog is approaching its first anniversary later this month, perhaps for that reason I did not anticipate just how difficult it would be to come out of December holidays into January with your writing charm intact! I should include this tiny element in my blogging equation come next year. But I think I’m pulling through just fine.

On to the main subject, the good rocker (I presume, judging from the username) who goes by the name rockhead tagged me, I’m supposed to write ten things about myself that the blogosphere might not know about me. Now, I have done this before here. Nevertheless I am doing this again and I have decided not to read the previous post in order to come up with a fresher, original me. So here it goes.

1. I have certainly forgotten what a day looks like at sunrise because I am so not a morning person! I sleep through most mornings and stay awake a good portion of the night. Dare nobody judge me though, I am not a bird and I’m not looking to catch any worms and this does not by any means render me lazy indolent. (Yeah, I’d rather be indolent that lazy. The word just sounds classy) Although I must admit, given the circumstances, this is going to change soon.

2. I get attached to objects, for example, and this for some uncanny reason reminds me of dogs, there is a particular plate in my house I insist eating on, a particular glass I must drink from… I wouldn’t even change my faulty mouse for my computer because its got ‘history’. One time the last of my favourite glasses broke, I couldn’t help to think of all the things I could have done that I didn’t that would have changed its fate, yet I wasn’t the one who dropped it on floor. Thoughts like, if only I could have been there… the memories bring tears to my eyes.

3. Seeing that half the objects I get attached to mentioned above are culinary objects, it won’t win you a medal if you guessed that I love good food, keyword being GOOD, then food follows. When I say good, don’t get it twisted please, I simply mean delicious! I don’t need to know what it is, but in addition to it being edible food, it should as well look edible.

4. I like compliments coming from the fairer sex, it tickles me. I might even try to get it out from them by giving subtle hints, and if it doesn’t work I sometimes find myself compulsively blabbering all the things I wanted to hear them say. And that’s when I’m misunderstood…

5. I have a weird habit of eating my nails! I remember this was included in the other post, I still do eat my nails. I nurture them until they grow to certain lengths and carefully ‘harvest’ them and chew them up one at a time. A good source of protein if you ask me. It may sound gross, well I don’t think it is, I clean them regularly!

6. I get exhausted from talking, I strongly believe its because of the fact that I am not a talker, I like to be alone most of the time. So when I engage in an argument or I contribute a lot at a gathering where there is a lot of story telling and laughter, I get tired of talking. My mouth just starts feeling different and my voice changes a bit, it becomes hoarse.

7. I talk to myself out loud it’s not even funny! Sometimes I’m tempted to think that I just like the sound of my voice.

8. The things I hate most on TV are those ‘oga’ movies (Nigerian movies), and I’m so close to breaking the TV screen because of those excuses of movies (?). They just make me sick, they are one of those things I propose people should atleast do in seclusion. Not a pretty scene at all, so to speak.

9. I find it somehow unsatisfactory when I shorten words for a text message so I end up writing every word in full. I usually have this notion in my head that when I shorten words, maybe the reader may not know what I meant to write. That in turn sparks a debate in my head about whether or not I took out too many letters so one by one I progressively add them until the word is in full. That way no one loses the debate in my head… don’t even ask anything.

10. *Sigh* Lastly, people don’t usually believe it, I fail to understand why, but I’m a first born. And so proud of it. I’m like the third parent in the house, that’s a big responsibility- to boss people around is not easy, it takes years of experience.

So there you have it folks, the things you didn’t know about Wyndago. Remember, you heard it here first.

Since I’m doing this the second time, I have technically told you close to twenty things about me that you didn’t know about my incredible self! Wow.

If you are reading this, consider yourself tagged.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010


Our women don’t appreciate us enough, and that is what they are doing wrong. But we love our women so much, it’s not out of place to hear one of us assert that Nairobi women are the most beautiful, curvaceous and sexiest beings on earth, but I am yet to hear a single woman, even when intoxicated with the drink or in my wildest dreams (and I do dream wild dreams), say that Kenyan men are romantic. That is just the general perception but it’s sadly true even when reduced to individual level. Our women want us to do everything and give nothing back, and by giving back I don’t mean sex.

Here is a theory that our ladies have been transfixed on long enough for them to believe it and it’s almost become a law: A woman shall not admit to a man how she truly feels because if the man finds out he will but only take advantage of it and break her heart. A Kenyan woman will like you, but she wouldn’t admit just how much because you just might feel too sweet, so a man may go ahead and say all the i-love-you’s and i-miss-you’s, call her all the babe’s and the sweetheart’s, you might as well get laid but she will not say it with her lips that you are romantic or the best. No out-of the-ordinary compliment will come your way, buddy. And trust a Kenyan woman to say something mean whenever you blow your own horn. Things like “Boy , please..” and “Don’t flatter yourself, Romeo”, feel me? But dare you stop the gush of compliments to her and all over sudden you don’t really love her.

This is even truer for women who have undergone a heartbreak at some point in their life. Yeah, that’s where another prick of a man spoils it for the rest of us and you end up becoming the relationship messiah, paying for the sins of another. She really likes you and really wants you but will always keep you close enough to not ward you off or make you feel unwanted. You are never going to know for sure and she won’t make a choice after a long time yet pushing her to the corner might not be the best thing to do. I heard it and happen to know that it’s a risk to let someone else in completely, but women and their emotions… when love ends it becomes disastrous for them.

For women who are uncontrollably scared of heartbreaks, I probably could understand but our women have an unreasonable trait of always putting us down when we are working hard to impress them, possibly to trim or keep our pride in check. Men are men, we have an ego, take our masculinity away and what do we have left? I’d say nothing. So ladies let your man have his moments and when they arise, lie if you have to we do that all the time.

“Hey, baby you’re the best”

“You’re the handsomest on the planet”

“My ex has got nothing on you”

You know, little lies here and there, you think we don’t like that crap? If it didn’t cross your mind then now you know.

Lastly, I hereby testify that all the women from the rest of the world have got nothing on our Kenyan women! And that’s real.