Nyaruai

The year is over. Well, almost. I can barely believe it. I clearly remember NYE like it was yesterday. December started juzi and next week is Christmas. How now? Well, I’m glad because this year has fulizad me a good one. Some parts of the year were nothing short of detrimental. Like a hunger games of sorts, without weapons and zero knowledge of the arena. I hit rock bottom, bypassed it and dug my way to the center of the earth. I had so many "moments". You the moment right? When you need things to spin this way and they’re pretty insistent on spinning the other way. When you're out of options. A situation where, when desperate times call for desperate measures, you feel free to be as desperate as humanly possible. Have you ever gotten lost inside your head? Because i have. Multiple times. How does that work out for you? How deep do you drown? Do you clutch at a straw or do you just let the abyss swallow you whole and drag you across the tide? How many times has it ...

Your eyes fly open at the sound of the alarm. That damn thing still makes your heart skip a beat, or two, even though you decided to move it into the living room to help you manage your chronic snoozelosis.  Its 5.30 in the morning, that time when the witches are going to sleep. Your beetroot eyes betray you’re drunken with sleep situation. Lazily turning over, you gaze at him in his sleep, wondering how he could dare sleep through that goddamn shrill. 'He looks so peaceful. “What tale is weaving inside there?”, you wonder out loud. You place a light kiss on his forehead and pull yourself out of bed. You hear him stir. 'So now he wakes up'. 'Mmhhh. Baby. Five more minutes' he says patting the sunken spot in the bed you just got off of. It’s tempting really, five more minutes and you’ll need to conjure the gods to work the Moses magic and separate traffic for you to scoot across town and make it to work on time.  He’s lucky it’s his day off, so five more minutes o...

Three things are guaranteed in life. 1. You will die. 2. As a girl, if you sleep in a tank top, when you wake up, one of your titties will be outside. 3. The pregnancy scare will make you religious.  In our African culture, a child is a blessing until it’s born out of wedlock. So I will try and put into detail what goes through the minds of ladies when they have a pregnancy scare. You know when they range the causes of cardiovascular complications, they should start with missing periods. Especially when you use one of those tracking apps, and it’s there screaming in some Armageddon looking color, PERIOD: 6DAYS LATE. You may be atheist or a heathen but you summon the Lord in all the Hebrew terms you can remember. Sijui Elohim, because you need a celestial warrior for this one. And Nissi and Shalom and Shammah and so on and so forth.  You take a blood oath to chastity if God agrees to take away this cup of suffering from you. It worked for Jesus, right? You rack your b...

My friend Shikoh is a mad woman, at least she likes to refer to herself as such. She tells me we should make noise when leaders steal our money, when they get pay rises before they work, and we should name and shame corruption in every shape and form it may manifest itself in. But if you know anything about what the president with a bird nest for hair called a shithole country, you know she will always have something to yell about. Probably until her last breath. And I commend her. Because sycophants see her as a nuisance. And small fish politicians hire people to send her headless chicken. But she still yells because she wants better. I figure in essence, that is all human beings want. Well, most human beings. Trump doesn’t. But sometimes, I look at the bigger picture and pardon my arrogance, I cannot help but think we don’t have problems. Okay, if you’ve ever travelled on those my town service pieces of metal, you see the problem. Heck, you’re paying 40/- to ride the problem daily...

Photo Courtesy: Pinterest There is this chicken at home. Ever since it was young, it has never really fit in. When it hatched its feathers were more like fur, too small and not what was normal. She was taking too long to grow and she was quickly left behind by her peers. It came to a point where she was too fragile to even move. You think a chickens bones can’t get any hollower. So we put her in a cushioned box in the kitchen where a light bulb hung always for warmth and light. We fed her fresh milk and yoghurt and cooked rice. We had eye drops for her. She got better, but she couldn’t walk straight. She leans on one side, stumbling more than walking.  I don’t even think its little brain works properly and if you observe it well, its eyesight isn’t as useful either. Most of the other chicken that hatched together with her are either stew or trade history. No one will eat her (is it okay if I use it, rather than her? yes? ok) So no one will eat her because we don’t want to cat...

           Photo Courtesy: AmuKay Let’s go waaaay back. From the beginning. When the earth was just a baby, God’s baby. Like a programmer’s code, being moulded into a perfect masterpiece. Then the gay serpent happened. I say gay because a talking serpent approached a NAKED woman and only asked her to eat an apple. Or was it blind, because we all know, us creatures of Venus have the power to stir up a million emotions when we take our clothes off. Assuming the devil is male, (we know he is), the fact that he did not notice her perfect boobs is the reason we have plastic surgery and Photoshop today.  Take a moment and picture the look on Adam’s face when  Eve told him he was naked.  So assuming Eve, did not eat that apple, and the earth remained the perfect universe it was supposed to be. That is my what if story... First things first, there would be no lies, which is a bummer, because most industries on earth were born out of lies. Starting o...

           Photo Courtesy: AmuKay Can we first agree that the term happy is relative, yes? Ok. So, my source of happiness varies greatly. One time it’s a series of memes, the other it is that time the broker fishes out a wad of notes to pay for my vegetables. Let us agree, money is actually a source of happiness and to be very human, I’d rather cry in that Range Rover (I prefer a Ford Ranger) that laugh on that bicycle. What if it starts raining and I’m on that bicycle, then I catch pneumonia and die? Was it worth it? No it wasn’t .Rather, I’d rather cry in that my Ford Ranger, and as I toast in the warmth of the air con, my tears will dry, logical, yes? Also, my forefathers did not blindly fight guns and grenades with spears and machetes, eating ngwaci in a mosquito infested forest, so I can cry on a bicycle. Back to the topic, happiness. My source of happiness I think lies in the small things in life. The laughter of a baby, (Boy! Do I love other people'...