Underwear Talk

By beenduta

I am in a matatu, seated between two young girls, who are talking to each other. I might as well have been a chair or (personal favourite) a ball of air. I wondered why one of them couldn’t move so that they could say whatever they wanted to comfortably, instead of shifting words to and fro, right in front of my face. Their weaves had a shine, made worse by the neon lights in the jav. They had very tiny tops (barely covering their derrieres) and these sheer stockings that would tear at the slightest touch. How they pulled off keeping them intact was beyond me, considering the appearance of the matatu, but I digress…

After singing along to every riddim playing on the stereo, the conversation kicked in.

“You know, I need new underwear,” One (let’s call her Joy- she laughed a lot) says.

“Me too. I no longer have going-out underwear,” replies Mariah (Pronounced Mrs. Cannon’s way)

She had me at going-out underwear. The urge to interrupt was profound: What do you mean by going-out underwear? And who is your mother?

Before you judge me, my mother taught me to always have clean and presentable underwear every day- whether you are in the house, or you are going to the market, or worse, when you are going to the hospital for an injection. No one knows what will happen along the way. To use her words ‘you may fall down right in front of your future father-in-law, with the hem of your skirt over your head.

So here I am in a jav, listening to two youngins (they looked nothing above 22) talking –no, shouting over the music- of going-out underwear. In my mind, I am rummaging through my underwear drawer: check, check and definitely check! Then I am reminded of one Crazy Nairobian’s Types of Underwear and I understand the ‘going-out’ underwear.

When I am back to reality, Joy is saying something about buying a number of thongs and cotton boxers. Mariah is busy nodding her head, swishing her perfumed weave over her bare shoulders. At this juncture, I have just about had it. And as if the universe hears me, a passenger some seats in front alights- see what wearing good underwear does to you, girls (insert diva snap) – I run and ‘grab’ that seat before someone else does.

As the matatu moves, and an old guy gets in; I look at the girls, look at him and I feel a sense of profound pity.

About the Author: Beenduta is a writer and a poet. You can find some of her work at Bee Illustrated

Chasing Cars

By Wendy

“You know what I am? I’m a dog chasing cars. I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it!” ~ The Joker

Greatrnk told me I could write about anything! I could rant about the MPs and their greed but who wants to talk about that? Unrequited love is a universal experience – let’s talk about that.

Did you ever hear about how David and Victoria Beckham first met? She was watching a football game at a pub and noticed him on the pitch. He was watching the Spice Girls perform and she caught his attention, and then a common friend introduced them. That was in 1996. Fast forward, 16 years, four children and life on two continents later. Sigh.

I met a man over the internet. He was giving a commencement speech to the 2012 graduating class of his alma mater. Soon after, I found out about the website and the short-film franchise that he and his friends co-founded and run. And then I met all his other friends, and learned a little bit more about the work that they do. And I felt like I was part of the circle – yes, the new girl, who’s still struggling to keep everyone’s names straight, but nonetheless included. You know, the usual dating sequence.

Then I learned something that should have been obvious from the get-go — I was not the only one going gaga over him. You don’t get to doing awesome things without creating a following – of several million! Somewhere someplace, there’s a 14 year-old girl, or twenty, with several posters of him on her wall. I can see the little pink hearts all over the damn thing. It makes me sick – in a way-to-mess-my-fantasy kind of way. Reality bites. I don’t like it.

In light of this realisation, I’ve started questioning myself and my achievements. He has been out of school for six years. Yes, he may be trying to figure out the future, but it’s a different kind of figuring out. He has six years of watching an experiment flourish. He’s very well-traveled. He’s smart. He’s cultured. Oh and he’s sorta kinda like a big deal (remember, a following of millions). I, on the other hand, just graduated. I’m working as an intern and not even in the industry I hope to be in! I get a modest survivable stipend, but definitely not that kind that allows for travel or cultural activities. I’m still trying to figure out the difference between a side hustle, a 9-5, a hobby and a career. Not to mention how indecisive I am about everything. Oh and I’m sorta kinda like a nobody.

In the beginning I’d used the Victoria/Beckham example to console myself. “You know, all I need is to put my work out there and he’ll find it, fall in love with me, and just like David and Victoria we’ll walk into the sunset. (Yes, if only life was that easily engineered.) And then, even if that happened, what would I do with him? Like I said, he’s brilliant; I’m still discovering my brilliance. He’s established; I’m as established as a dandelion that landed on a fast-flowing river. Really, what would I bring to this relationship?!

Now I have to break up with someone who doesn’t even know I exist because he’s just too good for me. Maybe in some 6 years, I’ll have a better grasp of my life. Maybe then we’ll be perfect together. Right? Argh, bad-fudging-timing!

About the Author: Wendy aka Karendi_ is an otherwise focused young person, she promises. But her mother warned her about the one man who’d cause her to do things that she’d be ashamed of. Maybe this is the one.

Letters

By ascofu

Okay? I am attempting to write another word, there! I have just done it. So, I was busy asking God why my DM (inbox on Twitter, FYI) was not functioning anymore. There used to be times when I would have conversations on end with many a tweep on many things, useless and useful (yes I also talk about useless stuff, don’t let the specks fool you), but of late there was a drought of sorts on the DM front. So, as I was saying, I was ranting about it, then I get a DM from the one and only Greatrnk, who, I guess everyone needs to know, I first thought he was a snob in 2007 ( but I guess that’s just first impressions, he is lucky it did not last, LQTM). He asked me, like the great bloggers before me to write about anything. I tell you that has got to be the hardest thing you can ever tell someone. In your mind you debate whether to write about relationships (which I can comfortably say, I can be a marriage therapist) or about politics in Kenya (where I am so pissed at characters such as the Minister for Medical Services, and his pathetic responses to the plight of the average Joe) or even US politics (not that I am an expert, but me thinks that Donald Trump with his daily tweets about how bad Obama is should have been the GOP candidate).

Well, I guess here goes nothing, right?

2005 is the year in question. I was in Form 4 (please stop calculating my age). Form 4 West is the class I was in. Our class was considered the waste of the school and being a provincial school in Rift Valley Province meant a lot was at a stake. 4pm, February 16^th was a Wednesday. Wednesday was our day for letters to be read at the assembly ground. We would all gather, just before being dismissed to go to our different clubs to have letters read out.

I just heard my name being read out, and I see a few eyes look my way as I go to pick the letter from the Entertainment Prefect. I looked at the stamp, it had been stamped Eldoret. “Eldy, sasa nani ni wa Eldy?” I thought. Then as I am walking back to the end of the line, where the rest of my classmates are, I hear my name being called out again. I hear a few whistles, and I am now getting stares from a few guys, I am not exactly sure whether they are jealous or if it’s just something else. This one has a familiar handwriting; it’s the girl from across. I am smiling on my way back to my friends.

The letter from Eldy gets opened first. Its Ruth. She is the Organizing secretary of YCS in Hill School Eldoret. I met her when we were at the YCS rally (of course I am the CU Organizing Secretary, but Gilbert, the YCS Chairman and my close friend, and I are always in the same events). Ruth is tall, lissome is the word I know better describes her look. She wears specks like me (at first I thought that it was a coincidence, but I think chicks who wear classy specks look hot) and then we are so alike, she is very outspoken (not talkative, there is a big difference, Okay, my OCD is showing) and of course, which boy does not want the girl from Hill School who has the best English accent.

At the rally, we are “put” in the same group (of course because Gilbert and I are organizing guys into groups). Okinyo, Miss Okinyo (as she preferred to be called), the YCS patron comes up to me and says in her high pitched voice, “Wambua, I am glad you came for our rally. I am so lucky to have you around here. Come closer so that I can give you a kiss.” She probably did not exactly say that, but who cares, she is quite a catch, I do not care what guys say about her being the Deputy Principal’s side dish. I digress, so me and Ruth. We presented on behalf of our group of why prostitution is justified in our society. We looked like we were finishing each other’s sentences. We get to Q and A time and we get a boy from our rival school ask, a very stupid question and we (Ruth and I) zima him like the presidential ambitions of Pastor Pius Muiru.

As she leaves, I give her our P. O. Box hoping that she writes back, and well, I am holding the letter in my hands. I am feeling so extremely confident that she even calligraphed hapo juu ya envelope. It’s like me name, only its Chinese. My girl from across is probably delivering the missives from across. Sijui who says what to who in my class, kwanza the dedix to Form Threes won’t even fikia them. Why would we encourage those kids in Form 3 to start hitting on our women? I hope she has written a long letter like Ruth. Its not that I am comparing the two chicks, why would I even do that?. I just want to see if she still scented the letter like she used to when we first met (btw Ruth has scented hers). I scroll quickly down to the end of the letter to see the dedix to me, she put Mariah Carey- We belong Together, Aaliyah- I Miss You and Soledad- Westlife. Si she knows me in and out!

Okay, now which letter should I read first? It matter, you know.

About the Author:Ascofu is in the process of writing a novel and a motivational book to be launched soon. He is a photographer at Higher Heights Pictures, an artist and a businessman all rolled into one. Do read his awesome blog at Ascofu At Work

Help Baby Emmanuel

A Guest Post By SamKitots

Three weeks ago, Sarah’s cousin Mwikali had come to the prime of her pregnancy duration. Her boyfriend had run off upon hearing that she was pregnant and she had to go back to her father’s house. This was one of the hardest choices she had to make as this relationship was her way out of the desolate family. Mwikali’s mum had long since died and her dad was very depressed for a while. Her brothers, school dropouts, were also staying in the house with her dad. None of them was really making headway with the chang’aa brewing. Desolation had struck the family and a baby was on the way.

Mwikali was insistent on making things work. She knew that this wasn’t going to be a family curse and decided that keeping the baby and bringing the child up in a positively enabling environment would be the way to go. Sarah always wanted to have such courage. She watched as Mwikali went through the motions of expecting a baby, as she dealt with the public ridicule and the shame that came with being sent back home to the village from whence she came. Time came and Sarah was called to the big city for a job. She wanted to be there to support Mwikali, but Mwikali encouraged her to go for this starter job. “When I can travel with the baby, and your find a place to stay, I will come and visit you, maybe we will create a better world for this child”

Sarah hesitantly left and made her way to her new job as a house help.

It was a beautiful Sunday morning, Sarah was getting ready to go for her usual day off and that’s when she got the call from her dad. Mwikali had gone into labour early that morning.

The family was caught by surprise and they called a nearby family for assistance. There was a new mother in the house and she came out to help Mwikali push through the delivery. A baby boy was born. Innocent as ever, the child was healthy. Mwikali was happy. After a few minutes she started bleeding. They could not figure out why and needed to rush Mwikali to the nearest hospital which was over twenty kilometers away. The nearest vehicle was five kilometers away. By the time a vehicle came, Mwikali had lost a lot of blood and had passed out. Mwikali was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital. She had not even had a chance to name the child.

The above story is a true account of real events. However, one thing is for sure, God has brought this situation for us to rally together and assist this child. A mere Kshs. 600 could feed this baby for a week. Clothes in the village are hard to come by. Should you wish to assist make life easier for this child, feel free to get in-touch with me. My wife and I have committed to supporting the child until he is weaned. Your support will be highly appreciated.

Donations can be dropped at Kingdom Business Network along Kabarnet Road, off Ngong road, behind Uchumi Hyper. Label the donation c/o @SamKitots and I will get them. Monetary donations can be sent to M-pesa number 0721 411 461. Any assistance will be highly appreciated.

THE DAY’S

Appreciation: Sam for taking care of the baby who is now three weeks old and is called Emmanuel.

Caleb Kipkan Ngugi: An Appeal For Your Assistance

An effort made for the happiness of others lifts us above ourselves.” - Mrs. Lydia Maria Child

You may have heard of The Let Me Live Concert. It was a concert whose aim was to raise money for Caleb Kipkan Ngugi, a sixteen year old boy who needs to travel to South Africa for a bone marrow transplant to cure acute leukemia. The concert was successful and massive thanks go out to all those who made their way to NPC Woodley despite of the heavy rains. The various groups and artists who performed for free also deserve a big pat on the back.

Unfortunately, Caleb was taken ill on the night after the concert and is currently admitted at Getrudes Hospital (Muthaiga). He was in need of blood but luckily, Red Cross and Carol Radull donated about 16 pints of blood.

So many of you have helped in one way or another and you cannot be thanked enough for your kindness. However, the money that had been raised at the concert and through the sale of merchandise and artists CDs was not going to be enough to cater for the transplant that is set to cost about 5.5 million. It is in this regard that you are kindly asked to help out financially or in any other way that you can. Contributions of whatever amount can be sent to Grace Kipkan’s M-Pesa number 0727 647 085 or Caleb Ngugi Kipkan’s medical fund Co-op Bank University Way account number 01109172153500.  Even that 50 bob will go a long way in helping. For updates, follow @teamcaleb16 on twitter.

Kindly share this post on various social sites to your friends and/or tell your friends or anyone who can help. Bloggers can re-blog this post on their blogs or websites and let their fans know about Caleb.

Let us help Caleb achieve his dream of being a pilot.

The Greatrnk is 34,567,890 Seconds Old

Never awake me when you have good news to announce, because with good news nothing presses; but when you have bad news, arouse me immediately, for then there is not an instant to be lost – Napoleon

I am afraid I am in the (un)enviable situation of bearing both bad and good news. In the few times I have been (un)fortunate to be in the same situation, I have more often than not started with the bad, but not on a beautiful sunny day such as this. Today I start with the good.

 On a day like this one, exactly about a year ago, I mumbled a few words and came up with my first post that I called Introduction or Int-or-duction. What I am trying to say is that I am a year old in blogging! On that note, I will accept any form of gifts that you can give to a guy as I commemorate a year in blogging. Do not feel let down or be left behind, kindly send your gift via m-pesa to 0725 94 02 94 and you stand a chance to win NOTHING!!! If you are a stalker, that is cool of you, I do not mind you. But start by sending a text and soon you will learn how the stalker can become the stalkee.

I am made to understand that I am supposed to say thank you to the beautiful people who have stood by me through the bad and good times. Come on guys, The Greatrnk is celebrating one Year! This is a day about ME, not those who made me what I am! In any case, what is the part for the bad news for?

The last year was GREAT! The humbling moment of it all was winning a blog contest barely four months after I started blogging. People, do not be afraid and/or ashamed to clap for me! That was no mean feat, and so I advice all my haters, that they have nothing on me, and if they think they do, they should start a blog, compete in a competition and win. I will save them some competition by not competing.

In the course of the year, I successfully managed to inspire various people to start blogging. They know themselves. I normally look from a far at what they are upto and smile like a proud daddy (even though some of them are really hot and ……. So I guess I will change the phrase to “proud brother who is not related to them” so that I do not blow my chances of ……). Those spaces are full of innocent words, get your mind off the gutter (and bring it here)

Over the last month, I have held back emotions (focus people, I am a guy and the only emotions I know are of violence and anger) when people have used various means at their disposal to say nice things about my blog. I am sure some of you secretly told me my posts are bad, but at least you did not let me hear you say that, mainly because you were afraid of the repercussions i.e your face bashing itself against my clenched fist at a speed likely to beat light at its own game. Every positive comment over the last month about my blog has been like a stab which hurt and I will explain why in a short while.

 My journey in blogging started by me being inspired and learning from one of the best bloggers Kenya has ever produced. I spent a whole three months (before I penned down any post) reading every post he had ever written and what he was writing. I am not like nowaday kids who stumble upon a blog post and before finishing reading the post, they have one of their own. Then they will go ahead and write things like “AM” as the short form of “I am” and fill their posts with “lol” and some other bullcrap that makes my blood pressure rise higher than fuel prices. It is no secret then that the first person that is in the thank list is of course none other than the deserving Chiira who used to blog in four places but now he is only based at The Trot and the Run.

 I must thank everyone who was kind enough to do a guest post on my blog. Here is to these great bloggers Justalffie, Beenduta, Cdooh, Nkirdizzle, Young Joey, Deestinguished, Pre7amer, lon’s draft, livie_livia, savvykenya just to mention. On the same note, I would also like to thank The Princess Project for the lovely partnership we have.

 I wish to thank anyone who said something in the comments section, however good or bad. Your comments were appreciated so much. It is only fair if I mention Samkeige aka CMB aka Prezzo (not Ngechu, but Ngechu will definitely be impressed by this CMB’s swag) for posting the first ever comment. Though to this day, I still do not know what he was talking about in the comment. Savvykenya, Joe_kirigia, Beenduta, Chiira, Deestinguished, Edoan, Joliea, Lucy, Langi, lon draft, livie_livia, itsnowrc, Diasporadical, wakarima, Angelduh, antae, bmahasi, buggz, cdohnio, justalffie, littleginik, Sala, magizani, anyixbaby, nkirdizzle, shuhi, sk8rrboi, Edward, ivoryconfessions, mobkay, iro, ngina95, coloseum and many many more, I cannot thank you enough.

 A host of you have been silently reading, and are truly huge huge fans thank you so much. I must mention Kevmotz, Ndubiabenga, Simalo, Ratia_Tee, Missmwangi, antwarogue, msupastar, riqoz, annesalyve, amon, jules, Bonybambino, medicalquizez, aizoo22, lawrence mwangi, angelshekaza, swirrytwix, davemunyao, hascol, posh, polo, hov and many many more, I will remain indebted to you.

 Due to space, I could not mention everyone who has, for some reason contributed to the growth of this blog both positively and negatively. Due to my laziness, I was not able to put links to the above mentioned heroes, but I used their twitter handles (atleast those that are on twitter). Since today is Friday, you can go ahead and follow them .

 Having thanked everyone, I now come to the bad news. The reason why the last month has been hard for me is because all along, I have known what is to happen today. And no, I am neither talking about the end of the World, nor Itsnowrc’s birthday. The first person I told these news actually knelt down, weeping and begging me to reconsider my stand and that she would “do anything”. Stupid me, I should have ceased the opportunity and/to ask her to marry me (just to see her reaction). Instead, I chose not to tell anyone till today. Ladies and gentlemen who hate me and (mainly because of) my blog, I will reduce your suffering on Earth by officially retiring from blogging with immediate effect!

 There is no error in the sentence above. However, I will do guest posts for anyone who wants one, just hit me up at greatrnk@gmail.com or greatrnk on twitter. I will also be happy to host anyone on my blog on any topic. On that note, my partnership with the princess project will still continue, meaning about every week, I will be posting a post from them as I have always done. I also have several guest posts that I will post, and I will ask anyone who feels philanthropic to do a testimonial guest post as a befitting goodbye to yours truly. From time to time, and when I am inspired, I will be writing something and asking anyone who would honour me to post it in their beautiful/awesome blog. Or maybe I should just be selling it to the highest bidder.

There is no right time or way to say goodbye, but according to me, the right time is when you are still on top of your game, however bad your game was. Ladies, who love me and (mainly because of my) blog and gentlemen, until I decide to do a Jay-Z or Michael Jordan/Schumacher or George Foreman i.e come out of retirement, here is my bow, wave and the curtain closes as you do your standing ovation.

 THE DAY’S

Quotes

The first date is normally bad. Usually the girl is sensitive about food while the guy is sensitive about money. Here is a situation where the guy uses money to buy the girl food.

Imagine watching your wedding video backwards. I am sure you will love the bit where u take off the ring and walk out of the ceremony with your friends….

If you watch Oprah in reverse, it is about a woman who takes stuff away from crying people and feels so guilty she loses weight over it. – Mingus Mkubukeli

The Worst of The Greatrnk

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling – Oscar Wilde

 

One day I was doing what I do best, which is being busy doing nothing, and basically minding my own business when someone who loves my blog (that is what she said) and is good looking (that is what I am saying) found it wise to ask me what inspires my writings. I decided to answer her in the form of, not one, but three posts! Yeah, I am cool like that. These posts will focus on my behind the scenes or what was going on through my not so smart thesaurus when I penned them down. Today I focus on the posts that did not make it: The worst of The Greatrnk.

 

1. El Fifa del World Cup

The title was supposed to look like a soap opera title. The inspiration behind that must have been Chiira’s Inflated Skins vs. Air Heads. At that time, I was less than a million seconds old in blogging and the only blogger I knew was the guy I mentioned above. It was a day to the start of The 2010 World Cup. I think the post is humerous. I must add, as I did in the post, that the questions were asked and answered in a South African Tourism Website. I even added a poll for people to vote for the country they think would win the World Cup. Most people, apart from me, thought Spain would win it, followed by Germany and Argentina. I do not think it deserves to be among my worst posts.

 

2. The Stock Market: Types of Stocks

This was my first real post, after the introductory post. The research that went to this post was enormous but I did not share it in the post. In researching, I learnt a lot about The Stock Market. I had planned on writing more posts on the stock market but somehow, that was not meant to be.

 

3. Top Ten

After two months of blogging, in which I wrote posts that at times sucked, I was wise enough to know that the only way to get better was to read and copy from what I read from other blogs. Remember when I started out I only knew one blogger. By this time, I had stumbled on blogs by the queen of twitter in .ke savvykenya, the funny itsnowrc, the not so noisy on twitter but talented writer sheblossoms, anyiko (Before I made the huge discovery later on that she was a celeb) and a few others. This post was my all time Top Ten best blog posts I had read. I am sure some of those post are not in my current top ten anymore, but these bloggers are still doing a great job. This is the best way to say the five bloggers mentioned thus far were my inspiration and mentors earlier on.

 

4. The World Cup…….as I Saw It

There were just three matches left to the end of the World Cup. I wanted everyone to know that I had all along known England and Argentina would not win the World Cup. The team I supported, Brazil had been kicked out, and I blamed Dunga for not calling up Ronaldinho. We all know what had happened to Ghana. Much of the Ghana disappointment is portrayed in the post.

 

5. Where Did The Vowels Go To?

I love this post, and it beats me that people did not relate to it. Facebook had introduced the “see more” feature where long updates were half posted with the option of clicking on the “see more” so as to see the update. As lazy as I am, I could not, and still cannot, get my fingers to click “see more” and I kept thinking why people kept on writing long updates. There was also the issue of shortening of words such that words no longer had vowels, which still infuriates me. And of course, the worst sin of all: The Laughing Out Loud or Lots Of Love acronym. The guys who use it fall in my List Of Losers!

 

6. Participants of the Stock Market

Just as the first post on The Stock Market, I did massive research on this post. It was a continuation of the first post. When I wrote it, I knew I would continue with the subject, which has not happened ever since. If I am not wrong, the next installment was to look at how stocks are valued. Maybe one day I will post something to the effect.

 

7. Int or Duction

This was the first post I ever wrote, which was to mark my triumphant entry into the world of blogging. I was so excited. I was just free styling and ended up with no words to end it. I like the post, even though someone once read it, compared it to what I am writing now and duly informed me that I had come from a far. I beg to differ, I have always thought I am getting worse at this writing business, but that is a story for another day.

 

Have a look at the posts and tell me if they deserve the punishment that is The Worst of The Greatrnk.

 

THE DAY’S

Quote: I said to my girlfriend, “Do you want to see me pull a really ugly face?” She laughed and said, “Go on then.” So I grabbed hers. - Anonymous

Bonus Story:

Mugabe’s Chauffeur ran over a pig. Mugabe asked him to go and tell the ranch owner what had happened. One hour later, he reappeared, staggering with crampy clothes, an unzipped trouser and champagne and a cigar on either hand.

Mugabe: What the … happened to you?

Chauffeur: The ranch owner gave me this champagne, the wife gave me the cigar and their 19 year old eer….

Mugabe: My God, and what did you tell them?

Chauffeur: I just went in and told them that I am Robert Mugabe’s Chauffeur and I have just killed the pig!