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

Know Your Worth

by switcheeks

Grandmother’s advice

Before you go on and sigh! It’s not another sad Love gone sour I know my worth story, so go on continue scrolling down. I had a weird dream recently, I dreamed that I was 94, relaxing by the beach with my current age which let’s pretend it’s 21. The conversation we, I mean I had with my older self was really weird and so real, it went something like this;

Grandmother me; “Lately it seems V, you hardly know your worth in life, you worry about small things that you don’t have control over. You need to relax, inhale and let everything go, heck see the wrinkles I have now because of your worrying too much? Let me tell you 5 things that you should never forget my dear;”

1. “Stop bringing yourself down. Would you allow anyone to call you stupid, say hurtful things about you on your face and just let them get away with it? Of course you wouldn’t! But you feel it’s okay to hurl insults to yourself. See that pole over there?” I turned around to look at it, as she handed me some grease (it’s a dream, don’t ask where the grease came from) she then told me to apply some on the pole, and then try climbing it. I couldn’t do it. “You see my dear,” she continued laughing, “How you always bring yourself down, thinking you’re not worth anything, you’ll always end up trying to climb that pole in life. That’s what negative thinking does.”

2. “Let go of your so called friends. I know this may sound a little bit harsh, but have they added any meaning to your life?” I told her some have; she went on as if she didn’t hear anything I said. “The ones you say you trust have they earned that trust? Why do you confide in them and yet they end up gossiping about you to everyone? All they do is bring you down. I thought you knew friends are like sponges thrown in a pool of water, you either absorb their good or bad traits. Now, are they worth calling friends?”

3. “Love yourself.” (I don’t mean fap) but when was the last time you treated yourself to something nice for all the hard work you do? You have a beach here, why don’t you take advantage of it? Relax, switch your phone off, get a good book to read and just enjoy the sound of the waves. That man you have been stressing over. Is he worth it? Look at you V; do you honestly think the forbidden fruit you have been eating is the sweetest? When I look at you, I see you eating more of Poison Ivy than the forbidden fruit. Love yourself enough to know your worth.”

4. “When was the last time you told mum you loved her and not just put up a stupid update or tweet saying how much you do when you know she’s not on Facebook or Twitter? Call her and tell her that. She needs to know you appreciate her for everything she’s done for you. And our brothers and sisters, do you remember they always put up with you through your worst. Don’t forget that and treat your friends like they are more important than family. In the end family will always be there for you.”

5. “You are not perfect. Remember that; don’t act like you haven’t wronged anyone. Apologize, let go of all the grudges you have and work on your relationship with God. He knows you are far from perfect, yet he’s never given up on you. Know your worth in life, V.”

I wish there was a way I would have recorded that dream, it was so real because I was/I’m in that point in life where I need to let go of all the negative burdens and things going on around me. Maybe I had that dream because my grandma is 94 and sick lately and I’m always worrying about her, but whatever the case, the advice I got was practical. Know your worth in life.

About the Author: Switcheeks (twitter handle) aka Marion aka Viona or V as she has called herself here is the founder and Executive Producer of Act Like A Facebook Girl; Think Like A Twitter Woman. She is a great writer, is witty and funny and I will let you judge that by yourself by directing you to her blog, Vionna’s Watching.

Breath of Life Concert

A man’s true wealth is the good that he does in this world to his fellows – Moliere

Frank Muriuki is a vocalist with the best gospel group of 2012, Adawnage. His father, Josphat Muriuki, 59, has melanoma (skin) cancer. He is currently admitted at MP-Shah Hospital where they are administering Radiotherapy and Chemotherapy. He has also had to undergo various surgeries including lower leg surgery in December 2009; upper (thigh) surgery in December 2010; Head surgery to remove a tumour in February 2012; and a surgery to reduce the size of his prostrate in May 2012. Due to the expenses involved, the family’s accounts and savings have run dry. Frank has had to postpone his wedding twice already due to his dad’s medical condition.

 

Breath of Life Concert

Breath of Life Concert is a fund raiser concert aimed at offsetting the medical bills that have so far been incurred by Josphat. This coming Saturday, 9th June, 2012, make a date with Adawnage Band, Zidi the Band, Dann Number 8, Pitch 5 band, Revelation Crew, Webi, Carlisto among others at St James Buruburu (Multi Purpose Hall) from 3:00 PM to 6:00 PM. The best part is that it will cost you only Kshs. 200 and all proceeds will go towards the payment of Josphat’s medical Bill. St. James Buruburu is situated at the junction just after Safaricom Centre and Equity Bank Buruburu. To get to the venue, use a No. 58 Doubl M bus from the City Centre.

 

You can also support the family pay the bills by sending whatever little or great you may have to these M-Pesa lines: 0720 612 699 (Frank) and 0720 612 698 (Harry, Frank’s brother). For more information, you can get in touch with Frank or Harry (numbers given above). You can also follow the Breath of Life Concert on facebook or tweet @adawnage on twitter.

 

Let us come on board and help the Muriuki’s at this hour of need.

TODAY’S QUOTE:

Flatter not thyself in thy faith in God if thou hast not charity for thy neighbour – Francis Quarles.

Also read Sammy’s post

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.