MOTIVATION, CREATIVITY AND WRITING

There is no one person on earth who qualifies to being idle. Perhaps you can say dolce far niente. The only idle things are statues and dummies that are stagnant until moved to a place of respite. It is only opportunities that are rare or is it scarce and therefore hard to come by. I have inkling that there is something that is not right or there is a prepotency that has not been accurately redefined to give some form of acceptance of that which has become elusive.

We are living in a world of fantasy. Fantasizing about what we aspire and never taking the bull by its horns like a matador to get what we are in need of. We are devoid of action and like being risk averse by reclining back to our cocoons of contentment. We want things on a silver platter and forget that there is a leeway in asking and starting towards getting there bit by tad.

Eating is a perfect example of how we should approach what we want. When one is hungry, he or she looks for a place to find food. Likewise when thirsty, you quench your thirst by drinking water (some bottled half litre bottles are charged as much as sh.600). Water is life because 70% of the earth and our bodies are water if geographers and biologists are to be relied on. 

Many a times, it is easy to brush things aside without taking any action whatsoever. I have been having a dream of introducing or is it marketing my blog to a newer crop of readers but I have found it very tasking and tasking. I am not a good marketer after all. Yet I know the components and principles of a good marketer. Say wasting education and letting it go to the dogs. Hope my mentor will help out, that is, if I ever make it to say Hi (Guess I am too busy).

I have no expert experience in doing it what I love. Albeit I desire to build a formidable network that I can rely on. It is sometimes good to make confessions. I am like Tarzan in the jungle. I look up to no one but the animals who are my company. I aptly have no idea of what my brand should be about (kind of vague). As such I am on a sabbatical leave to rediscover my prospects in life which should be studious and less preemptive. 

That brings me to what I should be really worried about. Motivation. There is power in motivation. There is energy and pep, and the fact that you can do anything if motivated is a plus. Motivation changes everything and plays a crucial role in giving one some form of nirvana. I know that burnout is a very crucial aspect in life. Writer burn out if not checked can be very piercing resulting in a tinge of resignation and exhaustion. Bet even the most prolific writers go through these phases in life. Ahoy, I am not alone.

Not caring as deeply as you did just moments ago can be a profoundly disconcerting experience. It ideally affects creativity and will power to surge on to the next level by transcending the previous one.

However, this is not a slog. My mental resources are not yet exhausted. I would have wished to be in a quilt and slumber my tribulations of having not yet got there but I cannot. My eyes are crimson out of the many hours spent behind a box that looks like it will become my home when I no longer have the motivation that could exonerate me from connecting the dots that have kept me far away yet am very near. It is like getting immersed in artistry at the end of a grueling day- you keep on losing and losing.

Every other time I take a matatu, I usually wish I would sit reclusively devoid of discompose from another passenger and mull over whatever comes my way. Then I can retrospectively reflect on the things observed and those that matter most to me.

Sometimes when I write, the flowery words usually come naturally without any ado resulting in seamless segues. Such times, ideas flow like they never have before and I get to like what I read even though I know of people who can never reread their script after scribing the content in their brains on black and white.

When I usually feel disillusioned, I know of where to commiserate. It is never easy at times to let out the frustrations but you have to let them out. Writing is one of the most intelligent ways to let the rage or irk fade away. Even if none will lay eyes on the piece of creativity, you sure are able to let out that which disturbs the mind.

When my brain and soul shuts down, my hands are like, “To hell with writing, nobody even cares about what I gibber about anyway. It’s too much work. Dude get a life.” But there is that feeling that rings at the back of my mind assuaging me never to give up hope but to get it write. Rome was not built in one day and that patience pays.

Sometimes I wish I could brew new stories. I take that coveted timeout to reflect more. To find out what I need to do different. I immerse myself in the comfort of books. I have left so many halfway due to my greed. I trust that time will heal the urge of my lethargy that keeps on shifting intermittently. Trying hard copies, I realized works magic. Even writing on a piece of paper is more magical and sensational. It’s more natural and fulfilling. Just like sipping a cold bottle of tusker malt on a hot Saturday afternoon watching some the exciting BPL.

Reading soft copies is tactically hard and laborious. You must keep peace at one point which is never easy. Your eyes get dehydrated of tears and you occasionally suffer from bouts of seizures related to being an onscreen nerd onsite a give point for long. The corollary of this is extrinsic motivation where a person acts upon beliefs that are not held by that person.

Writing to achieve a competitive advantage is everyone’s desire. It is soothing and helpful. Even amateurs like yours truly are usually wishing to make it big some day in life. Get an audience and build on them as they built a brand that is unrelenting. But again, the only probity I can offer is the lack of assertion on my part.

The toughest part is rejection burn out. No one seems to notice the time you take to come up with good content or lack of thereof. Even those you thought would appreciate your writing never do so. They are passersby on a journey seldom making sojourns. No one is a Good Samaritan (Read fan). Like the Levite, they never want to besmirch their status by associating with a low life. They are on the move, forgetting that the journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. Getting there is not easy, some arrive at the verge of their senility and resurrect their energy more strong that they make juggernauts that are have a formidable force to reckon with.

I am stilling working out on a cascade of inspiration to make it to be the best of who I aspire to be. Write well and creatively even if the motivation is that I will continue being the sole reader of my content and perhaps find a way of marketing my blog much better in a way that is gradual and geometrically with time. When I embark on writing my novel, I will do it with the steadfastness of a victor having knowledge that the going is never easy.

While I idle in this sea of the unknown, my premise is to therapeutically disengage when it is right and to find solace to get to the next level by making effort each day. I want to make writing my sprezzatura. It means effortless grace, all easy, doing something cool without apparent effort.

SITUONANE.

[Photo source: Openphoto]

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IT'S TOUGH BEING A JOBLESS GRADUATE.

I thought I was alone in the search for employment in this highly competitive world that has become callous in retrospect. Then I came to realize I am not alone (read KEPSA-KYEP Project). I am devoid of the lone ranger mentality. Even those people who have contacts are still hustling. So sad. They need to keep the fire burning though. Some were given jobs you would think their godfathers are only interested in exacerbating their already fragile plight of making them slide lower in the social ladder.

What however caught my ear were the anecdotes some of the graduates have gone through and some continue going through in the quest to find a good job that is rewarding and sustaining but still very elusive.

When a graduate resorts for an internship that pays for something just slightly above half the minimum national wage in the city, you know that youth unemployment is a ticking time-bomb that needs to be reigned on like yesterday.

The challenge that however remains is the old guard who have refused to let go of the lucrative positions they hold in some of the ministries that matter in the public service. They come up with archaic ideas to enrich themselves because they know they can get the funding by presenting a feasible proposal to would be donors.

Back in campus, I remember one of the lecturer alluded to the fact that some of the strategists and policy makers at the treasury were men and women who had served in the post colonial government and even though we have marked the golden jubilee, they still hold onto positions because of reasons best known to them. They shun the volatile and political posts that offer no security when a regime changes.

The public service has employed more aged people than the youth. Ideally, this is the year in which most youths should expect to be absorbed in the public service following a five year hiatus due to the extension of retirement age (most youths think it should be 50 years). What is frustrating is that some of those old-guards only want to continue lolling in the lucrative and prestigious parastatals because of easy money as a result of the unnecessary red tape and bureaucracy that has dogged most ministries since time immemorial (read being oiled by the ever short-cut seeking plebeian). 

They want to be retained on contractual terms on retirement and most due to their vast experience retain some of the positions much to the chagrin of newbies who have to be content with being casuals or working under the old dogs year in year out. Some of the newbies even forget that they need to be employed on permanent basis and the terms and conditions of employment properly outlined. But due to desperation, you accept whatever you are given because so many need that post.

There is this slogan being pelted to every youthful chap outside there by the proletariat who fear the unemployed like a Nairobian does the hobos who have their hands smeared with stool ready to attack. Uwi. It has to do with starting a business or engaging in entrepreneurship. My God! If statistics serve me right, very few youths want to hear of starting a business since they don't know where they are heading and how to go about it because they are not empowered. It is like crossing a river and the next point after that is a thicket with no vistas in place to give light on the probable next point of sojourn.

Again, very few banks and investors want to engage in the risky venture of seed capital even though you may meet some of the minimum threshold required to get the money.

My pal told me of a friend who told him of the minimum amount he should expect as a graduate (Sh.50000 net). Roughly, a mtu wa mjengo/ jamaa wa mkono is paid approximately sh.500 a day. That roughly adds to of minimum of sh.12000 exclusive of worship days if he works for 24 days in a month. Koroga days they are usually paid more.

Therefore, as a graduate, you need to be paid more. However you are doing half of what the person makes hoping things will improve. I beg to know the person who came up with the idea that irrespective of skills acquired or gained, one should be paid as a likewise those with no skills. However, Drake sung starting from the bottom. Likewise Ringtton.

The bugger who came up with the theory still wakes up at 1100hrs (earning 50k having gone to campus) and hopes to get a good job someday. The illusions of having been a campus graduate still haunt him not to take any job that nevr pays below his minimum requisition. He hopes to make it big sometime in life. Patience pays. Does it pay for those sleeping till eleven in the morning?

In fact, it has become prestigious to be employed. As long as you are taking something small at home, you are good to go. 

The lacuna between you and your friend who was lucky to be employed is real. The terse confab you engage in tells you precisely that things have changed. The bugger will tell you to continue hustling and probably give you a "kachwani" because your net worth and plight is probable to that status.Worse still, the frustrations are written on your face and in your grooming. On the contrary they are more preened, sophisticated, polished and only gibber in the Queens patois. Work ethic I tell you.

There was one graduate who went to look for employment and because of his patience, he got the job. I read somewhere that in order to be noticed by the receptionists as a job seeker, you need to be standing and noticeable. Seating may make the receptionist forget about you and as such not be able to communicate with the relevant authorities to either call security or usher you in.

The graduate (let me call him Innocent) being a patient person had reported in time. There were two positions to be filled.  Obviously during an interview, the number of people who turn up are usually very high. Five hours into waiting, no one had been called, hence they continued waiting. Some got tired and hungry and because the organization did not seem to mind about them, they walked out in protest.

At 1700hrs, they had not been called in for interview, but usual Innocent kept on waiting. Everyone went away because they knew that it was past working hours and there was no interview after all. 

At 1830hrs, Innocent was called by a certain jungu who was the CEO of the company. He was asked if he was among those who were in for the interview and he answered on the affirmative. 

At that moment, the jungu apologized for keeping him waiting and the next thing he was taken to a five star hotel, given his appointment letter, some cash and bought bruchupper (breakfast lunch and supper ).

The search for a good job is usually frustrating. Those who get employed early on in life also have their frustrations. Meeting deadlines, obnoxious bosses, inimical requirements and a host of other things that only God knows. Others are engaging in entrepanuaship. Lucky them.

Frustrations that groweth an individual are experiential though. They make one courageous and steadfast. They aid in giving one temerity and vigour so that you know that it is never easy even as you surge.

That reminds me of the story of a chap who squandered all the money his old man had worked hard to make. It was approximately Sh.60000 because it was meant for the purpose of the purchase of a good laptop that would serve for many years.

Days later, the dude rung the father that he had lost the cash and his old man devised a plan to teach him a lesson.

He was told that he had been secured a good job in a reputable firm dealing in sugar. Upon reporting, he was to be a porter, transporting 50 kg sack from one point to the other. Since he never wanted to quit because the father had intimated to it being a white collar and the fact that he would call his supervisor, the chap had no option but to go back and do the job because he was also on long holiday staying with the dad.

After two weeks, the boy could not keep up and he overslept after becoming zonked out. His father as usual called the supervisor and asked if the boy had reported to work. He never bothered because he had taught him a lesson. 

Months later, the boy got the courage to ask why he had been subjected to the torture. His father being very diplomatic told him he wanted him to learn that it was never easy making money in this world (sometimes you have to sweat). He also knew that he had messed up with ladies and used the money for buying a laptop to imbibe liquor in high end joints. Unbeknownst to him, his father had seen him because he had gone to catch some pints and saw him ordering for liquor like a boss.

Youths are really skilled and dexterous (some are a let down though). They are pursuing education as a means to an end. They forget that they also have talents. They want white caller jobs, they wanted to wake up and find that they have been employed in the most lucrative positions. They think that it is like the days of our fathers where form four leavers were hand picked to go and work for the organizations some realy wish they would be given a chance to go to. The worst thing is that being a policeman is so coveted to the extent that people part with hefty bribes to make it to the force. The military is also not spared either. 

Struggle people will struggle but the notion that Education is the only thing should change. The SW rule applies. This means after education, something will or something won’t happen in terms of employment. Hustling should be a requisite as things change. Successful people look like YOU and ME.

SITUONANE

[Photo Source: Goolge Images]

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AN IRANIAN VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION

But Iran is home to one of the world’s oldest civilizations. It has produced influential scientists, scholars, thinkers and artists. This could be the reason why they are able to craft the weapons that Kenya will only dream of owing to the stringent nature of the rules and regulations imposed on nuclear use by the United Nations to all countries aiming at using nuclear energy.Iran engages in charity. This was a first for me. I never new Iranians are that philanthropic. They also know how to interact and engage without sounding or appearing aloof. I have never had any interaction with guys from Iran in my life (TV Yes). I thank Red Cross for the opportunity accorded. Iranians are very cordial and even though some rarely smile (stone face nayo), their affable nature means they easily socialize with strangers easily. 

Ali Khamenei, their Supreme spiritual leader should be a very philanthropic man as the reverence he surmounts to remain an ordinary figure but still loved by all and sundry in the Muslim nation is well an act of modesty.

My dogmatic and parochial nature had made me assume that; all what the people from the Islamic Republic of Iran do was to either engage in the assembly of weapons of mass destruction owing to their nuclear weapons that have given the World Superpower some stomach spiders and relentless headache in an effective ploy of disarmament. Hitherto, in my humble opine they had become synonymous to the Islamic State. 

This reminds me of the former president of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. When he came to Kenya, instead of solely feeling at home among the ruling class and elites, he swallowed his pride and mingled freely with the commoners (mainly Muslims). The brouhaha that was witnessed as he was free of his body guards while interacting was eccentric. He was not only loved in the nation formerly known as Persia but also loved in Kenya (A goodo one). Then his influence was pulverizing in Iran. Their current president is a nuclear expert.

I still cannot comprehend the reason behind the fact that the former world giant in the mediaeval times has continuously been given bad coverage in the international media owing to its hardcore stance on nuclear weapons. The Persians have a history. That they ruled ancient Greece and other vast hegemonies is not a joke. They could have been what USA is currently to the world only that their claim was more to do with actual occupation.

The Iranians have the Red Crescent as opposed to the Red Cross (my guess). 

This year’s valentine’s day, I marked it on a slightly different note. Since I am a bachelor and a single one, I spent it doing stuff other Kenyans of noble cause were also engaged in. 

I remember hearing some ladies say that there were able men and kind of got excited but there are rules guiding on hitting on each other while in the bib indicating you are a volunteer.

This was going to be a voluntary and charitable exercise sponsored by the Red Crescent arm of the Iranian Embassy (I bet) and executed by the Red Cross arm, Nairobi Branch. We were to do community service, it entailed; feeding the less fortunate in society, giving them descent clothing, a place to shower and get medical examination and probably treatment. I never inquired about the nitty gritty. I was responding to an inclusive invite to all and sundry who wanted to join in a good cause. That of engaging in an activity aimed towards bettering humanity which I am passionate about.

When you have to deal with street families, the less fortunate in the City of Nairobi, you are need to be very realistic and avoid disdain. You need not be like the Nairobi divas who will chide anything because they feel like it lowers their dignity and standards they have set. Nairobi wannabees ladies can frustrate you, when I sense I am dealing with one, I feign ignorance and keep it stupid simple (KISS from Robert Kiyosaki’s Rich Dad Poor Dad).

I got to make new friends while participating in the project. Every other time you engage in Red Cross activities, you are bound to see new people irrespective of the fact that you may have spent 10 years or a week. One Peter told me he was in transit back to Alabama having spent his holiday for about a month. The great thing about Red Cross is that you never have to be a registered member to participate in whatever events they carry out. One only needs to volunteer his time and service, alas, you are good to go, there is an assumption everyone is new. 

Dealing with street families is very interesting. While it is usually derogatory and ominous to publicly talk about some stuff in public, those who live on the streets sometimes have no qualms saying it as it is.

There were a set of duties that had to be performed ranging from sanitation, registration, medication and mealation (eating food). I volunteered to do registration as I wanted to have a one on one chance to engage with those who had positively responded to the calling of the event that was taking place. 

Ideally, this was my second time dealing with street families. The first time I dealt with them, I was doing social mobilization. I was kind of timid, jittery and scared of the whole process and procedures. It was scary at first. However, if you have a symbol identifying you are a Red Cross volunteer, they become very social and come en masse to listen. However there are some nasty chaps though.

In their dens, most of those who live on the streets have a leader. Like a police commissioner or an army general, their word is obeyed and never challenged.  Their orders are obeyed like they are law in themselves. When one is reprimanded, they timidly recoil like a centipede does upon touch to be at their defensive. 

Their leader, I was told, are usually given first hand audience with the Nairobi governor or those charged with overseeing thigh plight in the city. They are like a time-bomb. They can marshal their generals to terrorize city residents but still get away with it since human rights organizations may come to their rescue because some survive on the families being on the street.

I remember the first time I had asked one of the street generals about his family and he told me he had three wives and children who he worked hard every day to feed. They were located in various parts of the city where the street families normally live. 

In Nairobi town, they live near Globe Cinema Round-About, Odeon, Muthurwa, Gikomba, Riverside (near Grogan Garage), Ngara, Majengo and a host of other places that I cannot remember.

As I was doing registration, I noticed something. Since the counties surrounding Nairobi are mostly inhabited by Saps (Slang for Kikuyus), a majority of those who live on the streets are Saps. Closely following them in population were Kaos (Kambas). Luos and Luhyas were also among them. Kakamega caught my attention because so many people on the streets of Nairobi were from this county.

I asked a small boy how he managed to travel from Kakamega to Nairobi. He told me he used a bus and upon arrival, he got company to stay with together with his brother. He really wanted to go back to school to further his education.

What mesmerized me was the fact that Kalenjins were among those who also live on the streets. They are very few however. Kalenjins are proud people. They never like some mediocre and below par city associations. They don’t have a slum area associated with them even though they are the third largest community in Kenya. Most prefer farming as opposed to hustling in the scorching heat of Nairobi.

The first dude who caught my attention while registering street families was one dude who was from Nyandarua County. Since it was compulsory to shower and be given new clean clothes, he had done just that. He come on my desk. He was clean, talkative and was high on msii (a drug most street urchins use). I commended him for his sanity and started asking him for his details to capture them on a registration card that was also an import from Iran.

There was this question that read, ‘Do you have any disabilities?’ The answer was supposed to be closed. It was either, ‘Yes or No.’ I rephrased the question in Kiswahili but the dude misconstrued the question altogether. Most of the hobos thought I was asking them of what was ailing them. I realized most had chest problems because of sleeping in the cold without blankets.

“Ndio niko na ulemavu,” he said pointing at his pudenda. “Unaona hii, ni ndogo sana mpaka naskia kama niko na ulemavu na huwa haisimami.” He was demonstrating using half his index finger.

You cannot fail to burst into laughter. He demonstrated other stuff before I asked him whether he was married or not.

“Sasa unaona niko na ulemavu tena unaniuliza kama nimeoa. Si bibi atatoroka akiona sina kitu.” I quickly cleared him since he was destructing the other volunteers from registering his fellow camaraderie as his answers were funny, ear catching and captivating. There were so many to be registered. 

Then there was also this dude probably 25. A certain pretty volunteer, probably just out of high school or in the formative years of campus was filling in his details on the registration card.

When the chic asked him if he was married, he objected by saying no. He went on further and said that he was a virgin and if possible the chic should help him in breaking his chaste status. He also said he was not into drugs but his attire, eyes, talk and teeth kind of betrayed him. 

A middle aged gentleman however caught my attention. He was from Majengo . He was probably from Kambaland owing to his innocuous burr of Kiswahili words.  He came asking for food because the issuance was taking too long much to his chagrin. He bragged about how he was clean since he was given some nice clean pair of jeans, a shirt and a jacket. 

He told us that he was even ready to meet the First Lady and tell her of his engineering abilities to possibly get to be given tenders and help in other dudes of national concern especially with her Beyond Zero campaign. His English though, was pathetic and pitiable. You feel like he is breaking all the rules but there is nothing you can do about it.

Before he left, he told us that his major concern was the rehabilitation bit. How could he be reached and if indeed the rehabilitation issue was a reality. He was aptly answered but before he went, he removed his phone from his jacket and showed us his high-end smart phone complete with a leather cover. “You can contact me using this.” We clapped as he sauntered away like a peacock having been praised for his techie gadget which I presumed was either a generic from Mandarin land.

I remember most of the street boys asking me whether there was a ‘course’ they could be taken to do in an institution to be able to have skills and  be productive societal members. There was a close ended question that required them to answer whether they wanted to go back home or to a rehabilitation centre. I rephrased the question by aqsking, “Unataka kurudi nyumbani ama kwenda course?” Most answered in the affirmative.

A certain lady I was registering who came at the exit hours of the registration process was also noticeable among the rest. She said she was past 30; her first child was a form one student. On her back, she had tied clothes so that it looked like she had carried a baby since she had tied the clothes with a baby shawl.

“I was also supposed to register the baby,” I told her. “This are the clothes I was given and I intend to take them to my six year old. That is the reason why I have them on my back”

The lady was from Gatundu South, the president’s home constituency. She was proud of him. She told us she had come to Nairobi to work and had left her mum in the village and since she had nowhere to go, she had decided to live on the streets.

“Si hii figure yangu iko sete,” she exclaimed while gyrating her model-like hips. “Hizi zikipata bwana, zitakuwa kubwa kuliko za Vera Sidika.” While she was saying this, we were again hooked to her story and laughing.

“Kwani munanichekelea?” she retorted. “Hapana, ni vile umetufurahisha sana,” Rachael, our team leader responded while laughing. 

She said the reason why she was not able to complete school was due to the influence of boys. She had tasted the forbidden fruit while still in primary and since it was sweet she wanted it again and again resulting in her dropping out of school. 

Her main concern was to be tested on HIV/AIDS because life on the streets was very risky. She was probably tested but counseling was probably done after testing. There was a psycho social unit to deal with counseling.

I remember beefore going to campus, one of the requirements was to be tested on HIV/AIDS. Our family doctor had insisted on me taking the test. I was never counseled before the procedure neither after. When I went to the lab to pick up the results, I was given the result which was negative. I needed not fear then.

Every question I asked was kind of enlightening and equally educating. For example, there was this lady from Kibra who came to my desk to be registered. There were questions touching on delivery of babies and pregnancies. She said she was 30 years. She had had 5 children and lived with all of them. She was not among those from the streets but because anyone was entitled to medical check-up, she had turned up.

There was a question touching on FP among married persons and she told me she had been done to TL. I asked her what it was but she never knew it. So I asked my reliable friend Google afterwards about TL. TL on twitter is Timeline but in medical jargon, it is Tubal Ligation. This is a procedure done to women to prevent them from conceiving other pregnancies and hence having many babies. 

I can only speculate that it was done to her to prevent her from having more children because she was having too many while her economic status could not allow it. Since she was a primary school dropout, there was a high likelihood she never knew the repercussions even though they may have explained the essence of the procedure. 

Those also taking part in sanitation also had their fair share of stories to tell. Washing some tots was really an invigorating task. Some urchins said that it was their first time getting to wash their bodies since the year began while others wished they could have a change of clothing every time they showered.

There was a lad, in his twenties; I was told. He had a tattoo of his girlfriend on his arm. He displayed it all who ever cared but mostly to men. His main area of interest was his chic’s vajayjay which he had unsavoury words to tell about.

There are observations I made. One was the fact that most of those on the streets have some basic primary education as they can be able to read. There was this boy who came back to tell me that he was not married as the person registering him had marked ‘Yes’ on the question, ‘Are You married?’ I rectified it for him.

They also want wanted to be trained on some skills and given alternative residential areas where they could stay. Many of the children below 15 years wanted to go back to school. 

Conspicuously absent were the middle aged ladies and girls. While doing my mobilization some few years back, I had seen so many women with children and young girls. But many had shied away from coming to this event.

When the exercise came to a climax, the rains did pour. It was massive. Most people were in twos in the VIP arena of Uhuru Park. Some ladies were in red, others blue with red shades but most dudes were not in suitable occasion outfit. We Kenyan men have a poor fashion sense. Our ladies struggle with their third-rate clothing which most of the times never backfires because they visit the tailors. What about men. Anything goes.

My attention was captured by some three ladies who had a bundle of joy on their backs. How could it be that these young ladies all had children at the same time? Talk of kujichocha (inciting each other to get get paged at the same time.)

Ladies, it is not an obligation to get pregnant as friends at the same time. In Swahili they say ‘KIKULACHO KI NGUONI MWAKO’

Kenyans are a very charitable people. Many turned up with clothing, food stuff and a variey of other items to aid in making this world a better place. Some have abundance; some have enough while others have inadequate. We can never be the same. Even if we tried, the witty and those who know how to survive will have more. This is Charles Darwin’s ‘Survival of the fittest and struggling to survive.’

PS: I got to see the former BBA Kenyan contestant and SMAA most influential blogger with a cause. Charity is universal, everyone can participate in it. 

SITUONANE.

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I WANT TO TAKE YOU ON A JOURNEY

Most people like brevity. I have done some research on the same and realized that man loves short articles. I penned this piece since I realized that no one would like to spend more than 5 minutes reading a story that does not make sense. This will take you at most three.

Have you ever thought about the power that Tuesday injects in you as a person each morning? Have you ever realized that Monday is a doomed day and it goes without saying that it is the most hated day the world over? I would have talked about the other days but I would like to single out two important days of the week. I know ladies revere Wednesday- nothing to talk about there, and Thursday and Saturday, perhaps I ought naught to write anything.

Sunday, most Christians check into the church and other places of worship to go and catch up with Sir God and probably repent their sins as some boring pastor preaches while they are asleep or thinking about licentious adventures (read: hanyaring game). I usually listen to Easy like Sunday morning by Lionel Ritchie as I lazy around waiting for a church minister to “Holien” my day.

Church is perhaps the best place that you can find an avenue of showcasing the latest contraption, fashion or gadget you bought and brag about your children and we get married in church, Right. Don’t guys carry IPads and Tablets to church and use the same as a source of the Holy Scripture? Yet again, some use the pads to watch blue movies, send hate messages on Twitter and Facebook and engage in catching up (a nicer word for gossiping among ladies).

Oh dear (forgive me for this), I don’t really know other sins that have been committed using smartphones and tablets. Still the bible is the best selling book since time immemorial (the hard copy). I have one for convenience purposes (the one I was bought in high school and I LOCKED it in my metal box from day one and it was still new upon completion of high school) .

I love church but I am that guy who attends the Divan ministries where you switch on the telly on Sunday, slouch lavishly and with the remote at hand, check for the pastor who preaches what you want to hear and does not pierce your mien into submitting into joining his ministry.

Once in a while when am touched and feel philanthropic and charitable, I usually send some Sh.310 via M-pesaaa. Obviously I would like to attend Kanyari’s church some day because the guy has turned Christianity into a big time business venture full of hoax, delusion, deception, jealousy and selfishness (remember when he told that dude he was coaching that Rose Muhando had not paid for the promotion).

While Kanyari only wanted Sh.310, the churches I have attended ain't considerate either because they demand more only that overseers of such churches are university graduates and use orthodox means (buying new TV, and other petty things). They wish they could be as creative, ingenuous and courageous like Kanyari (mad respect for this charlatan who turned Church into a flourishing business). I am not anti-church though, just agnostic, I am anti using the church as a means towards personal enrichment on the pretext of helping the poor when you know you aint helping them. Sawa.

Church aside, everyone just loves Friday. Have you ever thought of the effect Friday has in your life? Whoever coined the phrase Thank God Its Friday (TGIF), (SMH)? Damn, he or she had in mind buggers like me for reasons that are usually obvious. Larry Madowo knows best. His show trends like it is some hot spiced marinated chicken breasts served together with some Chinese rice you pay dearly for in a pricey bistro. And some ladies like chicken breasts. I will find out why? Just like I found out that ladies who wear screaming red lipstick are full of themselves, aim at attracting the attention of men and they are not corporate ladies and blah blah blah.

This is the month of love. Ladies love chocolates, flowers, red wine and everything red and an out in a good joint to fete St. Valentine who came up with Lovers day which apparently falls on a Saturday this year. Ladies love romantic books too, I realized.

I am marking my 100^th write-up just like my former Alma Mater marked 90 years since its inception. The journey has been well rewarding but again it has been challenging.

If you have time, read other pieces too, and imagine you are drinking a cold soft drink say Fanta on a hot day as it massages your throat and leaves you well satiated to the brisk.

PS: I like writing long articles. This is limited to 800 words.

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SEX ON FIRE

She was idling in one of the streets of Nairobi. I could read her body language. She sent strong signals that she wanted me. What with that gaze. I looked at her for some few minutes persistently. Feigned ignorance of her existence and walked past her. She was hot. That kind of lady that you can never resist because everything in her makes you want to take her to bed just by the look of her face, physique and what else?

I presumed she was waiting for her man. I walked past her and went to the bank. I wanted to withdraw enough cash because I was taking her home. We were going to have Sex On Fire. Lurid words, but I am just that. Me and I Love having sex on fire with any woman I can pick up or my friend has just finished with.

Am that shady and loose moral. I sleep with my friend's exes and they are used to it. They know it but can do absolutely nothing about it.

I can never be faithful. While most men hate picking ladies openly. I do it and even haggle over the price as others are listening. They usually sneer at my brazen tendencies and braggadocio. Who cares anyway. I have even slept with ladies I just bumped on the net. Some I am recommended to by even those I am sleeping with. Am very lucky a man. So lucky with women because many men stick to one woman for the rest of their lives.

I came to realize that in Nairobi, money talks. You bed these ladies depending on the amount of money you can spend. I also never use protection. I never will with any of these ladies. They know it. Yet I have never been sick. I have the right to brag apart from mild headaches that last a few minutes. Not even a cough nor a flu.

She was with her friends who were equally hot. You feel like you want all of them because you carnal desires are so piercing and you hormones are raging high. Let me confess that I have had menage a trois on a couple of occasions.

All men who have had a threesome will confess that it is usually very pathetic. You never can satisfy all women. I have had them before. I tried using cialis and mira to keep my stamina. Seems like they don’t help a lot.

Let me tersely explain how I have been able to take even five women in bed when other people still dream about it.

You need to be confident. Very confident and take the bull by its horns.

The skill of bedding a lady differs from the skill of just picking her up. All the ladies I have picked up usually end up in my bed. It is just by design. I must sleep with them.

Sleeping with a woman also requires one to be very good in bed. Some ladies are very boring and you barely make out with her. You soon fall asleep because she can never rise to the occasion.

I have a very agile libido. Some ladies are like a carousel. You sweat out till you give up and sleep because they never lose their sweetness. They are very exciting. And when you wake up, you continue from where you left. You sure know where to pick up from.

The make you writhe and groan as you hold on to her like a baby never letting your hands betray you because they need to caress and hold the right edges.

I am a smooth operator who knows how to make ladies feel like they are special and Queens . I know how to make ladies feel satiated in bed. I know where to touch. The words to drive her crazy and the rest as it goes is history.

Have you ever realized that talking about sex in your mother tongue is a caveat emptor, derogatory and can result in a barrage of tirade from the senile folks and middle-age proxies especially the ladies.Not in English though, and precisely on this blog.

I talk about what I want and how I want.

SITUONANE

[Photo source: SplitShire]

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CERTIFICATES OF DOOM APPEARS LIKE A FRAUD.

Dennis Okari is a brilliant journo. Nice. He is a graduate of Kenya Institute of Mass Communication. Big Up Bro. He has worked for BBC. Perfect. He has worked in all the big media houses in Kenya. Wow (Am even jealous). And he recently did #CerficatesOfDooom. Bingo. It was a well-documented and researched expose on the rot in the Kenya Education System. Sad and Mortifying.

The moment I saw the advert that the expose was to be at the prime time news of 2100hrs (I was watching Churchil Live), I was very excited. For once, I thought this is the man. He has the balls. He is going to break down the rot in pieces, procedurally and systematically on how education in Kenya has been compromised.

I also read an article he co-authored on Daily Nation that nearly half of all graduates from colleges in Kenya are half baked. I was worried. Could I be among the half baked individuals who transcended from college to the ubiquitous job market of unemployment? Sooner someone will tell me that my degree is fake considering the grapevine I have heard from those in other colleges about my Alma matter.

When you have worked for a big organization of international repute like BBC and high standard organizations like NTV and KTN (many dream of working in these organizations), you ought to be very pragmatic. I mean rely less on fallacies, base your argument on statistics and facts and never stage manage an issue of national importance for the sake of bringing down an institution accredited by the GOK for more than 15 years. Or Dennis never did Logic?

Most of the clip footage that discredits Nairobi Aviation was captured when Dennis Okari was working for FEBA RADIO- Baraka FM as the Head of Production/Breakfast Drive Presenter. This is in his Linked In Profile. The footage was captured in 2008, March. Yes, Almost 7 years ago when I was on the verge of exiting high school.

Did CS  Kaimenyi, our former DVC, even realize that the footage he was watching were recorded when he had no idea he would ever be a CS since he was a scholar and such posts were then reserved for politicians? How easy it is to trick a person with an established brand.

Credibility is what #CertificatesOf Doom lacks

When you are a person who loves credibility, you acknowledge the source of your video. I found the photo above on Okari’s twitter handle. Anyone who has gone to college knows the essence of quoting the actual source of data. It reduces on plagiarism and gives someone the deserved credibility he or she is preaching or professes to uphold.

I wish Okari could have been categorical on the fact that the video exhibits he was using on his expose were not captured in 2015. He goes to the extent of using MPESA statements exhibits of 2015. Hassan the alleged former student was given certificates was issued the same in 2008. The period he was supposed to have cleared college was 2013. He sends money via MPESA in 2015. Why wait for 7 years to send money? If this is not half baked journalism, am afraid I need to go back to school.

When you are a journo, there are some ethical standards that you must adhere to. The aims of journalism include: to disseminate information; to interpret events; to act as watchdog on power; to advocate for reform or to advocate for certain causes; to educate and empower the public as citizens and to guide public opinion; and to serve (or propagandize for) the party or the state. This is according to Steven Ward.

Allow me to indulge and give you a break down on why the #CertificatesOfDoom expose was biased and disastrously never adhered to the tenets of social responsibility. It tells of students who have been aggrieved and want justice because the institution is taking them for a ride. Realistically, I never saw any student from Nairobi Aviation being interviewed in the whole 29.16 minute clip. They only used impostors (sorry for poor diction there) who were probably paid to do the clip.

First scenario

Footage of Silvia registering Patrick in 2008

Patrick being interviewed by Dennis Okari

Receipt of money Patrick Paid

Receipt of money Patrick paid

Patrick, the first undercover student goes to NAC to find out whether he can do Electrical Engineering since he is a class 6 drop out. He is told he can only do City and Guilds exams the footage clearly indicating the video was done on 23.03.2008. Therefore he pays a fee of Sh.7200 and is given receipts dated 2015 (if the chronology of events are right in the clip). The next day he starts his class. He says cannot read and write while being interviewed by Okari in 2015. He speaks fluently in comprehensible English. Question that begs is, "What is wrong with doing City and Guilds exams when there are no standard entry requirements as long as a student can read, comprehend the questions and answer the them correctly?" Are those exams normally marked in Kenya? I don't know.

Second scenario.

Hassan talking to Okari

Pampula handing over certificate and transcript to Okari

Certificate Hassan was issued indicating he was a student in Nairobi Aviation

M-PESA statements of the Sh.3000 Hassan sent to Pmpula, the IT Lecturer

Hassan, the second undercover student is a fake. He is filmed on 25.03.2008. Two days after Ptrick starts school. Hassan narrates to Okari how seven years ago he managed to procure a certificate in Aeronautical Engineering from one Ignatius Parampula, an IT lecturer. He sends him money via MPESA in 2015 to be given certificates without ever attending class. The total amount he sent as per the Mpesa statements was Sh.4027. Pampula only wanted Sh.3000 to give him the certificate and transcripts.

Are these not discrepancies?

Okari you are the best investigative journo in Kenya. Igwe. A hot TT for more than four days on Twitter. You watch clips from 2008 and again interview students in 2015 and allege you are an investigative journalist? Let me not presume you were laughing after each episode of narration like actors do each time they mess on those behind the videos. But you were serious. Gravely serious. Did you coach those two students or some else did it?

In Kanyari’s expose, I saw the faces of those who were being interviewed. They were even able to confess later they were being coached by Kanyari to Moha. In as much as the footage was discredited by some people, there was real investigative journalism there. It really gave me a reason to smile at how gullible we the youth are when given alms or promised the same.

The Nairobi Aviation College expose was devoid of credibility. When I saw it on Sunday, I tweeted that it was biased and full of vengeance. I still stand by my word.

NAC has become a butt of jokes. I feel for former students. They are now at a limbo sitting on the fence. They joined the institution because it was certified as one that was credible by the Ministry of Education.

Maybe, some mandarins wanted to fix Dennis, a journo star has been on the rise. Why? You may ask. He exits KISS TV, immediately finds a job with NTV, he then leaves it for BBC, eight months later, he returns to NTV and gets promoted while some people are still stuck in a rut. Okari can you clarify why you left greener pastures in Queens Land where many dream to set foot in, Please?

As innocent as he was, Dennis defends his expose because he is an investigative journalist. He goes to #PressPass and because he is as sure as a cock, he defends the lies. Dennis, own up that you lied to Kenyans. Own up that you hired people to discredit an institution some of my pals have attended. They feel really let down. They spent money which has gone down the drain.  “Will you apologize?” My rhetorical question to you.

I am not a hater. I love justice for all. I never like mediocrity though. I love guys who are partial. There is nothing to gain from being nonobjective. When you want to do your investigation, you know the procedure that should be followed, getting facts right.

There are some ground rules that apply to almost all disciplines irrespective of career. Ethics is a requisite. It has to do with being truthful and being morally right.

I may have had some interest in Nairobi Aviation, but the way you reduced a formidable brand with many graduates into smithereens. I doubt if I will hold it in high regard again. It can never be trust in the meantime.

Some of the courses on offer in NAC only require someone to be able to read and write. Like in the case of the class six drop out who lies that he never knows how to read and write while he speaks fluently in English.

Well some may argue that it was good the expose was highlighted 7 years later. I say no. We needed to have the lives of Kenyans salvaged before they go to the dogs and they start crying foul, like yesterday.

I am of the opinion that you kept the expose for way too long. Moha and Namu once worked in NTV but they never highlighted the rot. Why Dennis when he is fresh from London? The place Biko was denied a Visa to set foot in.

Every Institution has its weakness. Even my alma mater had some. From my experience, the only individuals allowed to release certificates to students are those who work at the examination centre. I don’t know if NAC has one and effects transparency regarding the same. Lecturers are never allowed to give students results.

You should have brought Pampula and Silvia to also give their sides of the story.
 
My argument is based on the fact you only spent less than one month to do a comprehensive coverage of an expose that has also disillusioned many parents. Dude you are very good I tell you. I am not well versed with the research principles most journalists apply, but if it involves lies, witch-hunt and settling scores as some bloggers alleged, some people may never get justice.

PS: I  saw the picture of Sylvia backdated to 2008 and thought it was an hoax or it had been Photoshopped by those from the blogosphere. I had to revisit the video to confirm the truth. I wish someone would have employed me on permanent basis so that I could not have realized this. I wish I could see the faces of the lecturers and students, the guy who is in charge of quality control department because his coat looks like that of a lady and he  wears something on his head. Maybe, I will believe in the certificate of doom.

SITUONANE.

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LOVE IS IN THE AIR

It is February, the month of love. Love is in the air (February 2- February 16). Valentine's Day usually culminates the month as it is synonymous to being the Lovers day.  Most men find this as any other day.

Kenyan men, it has been said are lousy and icky lovers. They are less romantic and never know how to handle women. They use archaic loose vibes and never really give Kenyan women what they want (I also don't know what Kenyan women want). They like using a wing-man who apparently can devour before or after if they are have unchecked carnal desires.

And do Kenyan men use pick up lines? Pick up lines require some expertise while saying them. It is called the art of delivery. You may have the words but your tonal and variation may make you a coward of a person to look bad to your intended bait. As such you may make an idiot of yourself. You need confidence (not overconfidence) and you can forget about this hackneyed thing of pick up lines.

I once read somewhere that most men attack women from the rear when they want to approach them. Women however approach men from the front. The art of seduction by Robert Greene does not help much if you are a coward of a man like I used to be. Confidence (not overconfidence) is a weapon most ladies find worthy in men. And it works well if you can keep the conversation rolling. Women are wired differently and they may be complex and hard to deal with. I also don't know why ladies think all men are players and dogs.

On my side, I hate when I have to churn out stories while with a lady. Ladies have to take charge. Talk about their men and make me feel jealous, their struggles and future (I revere those who are optimists and gogetters). Reason why ladies talk too much is because of the Foxp2 protein and they have four and not two lips. They make women talk 13000 words more than men in a day. Men do an average of 7000 words and like walking a lot though.

Foxp2 is a protein also known as the  "Language protein" and its abundance in the human brain is the reason why people talk a lot that is women to be precise. 

I am aiming at getting to read "Why Men Don't Listen and Women Can't Read Maps" and "Why Men Lie and Women Cry" both co-authored by Allan and Barbara Pease.

Romance it is said goes hand in hand with height. Polish anthropologist, Dr Boguslaw Pawlowski, found that - in an ideal relationship - trust, money and respect are less important than the height difference ratio 1 to 1.09. His study in 2004 found that, to ensure marital bliss, a man needs to be 1.09 times taller than his partner. If you are a dude who has been having unsuccessful relationships, think twice. It could be you have a flair for taller women or those that are within your height.

When a woman loves, even if a man is cheating, she stays. She knows what that man is capable of. That in my opinion is not real love. It is desperation. If you are a lady with such a man. He is treating you like trash. He thinks you can go nowhere without him. Run like yesterday, for you will have noone to blame in the event you get an STI.

Women are more intuitive and perceptive in as much as they love to talk a lot. As such they can easily spot the difference between the words you are saying and the way your body is reacting while you are talking.If you are lying, they easily note it. Again during a face to face conversation while standing, women look at men using a wide peripheral vision. This means that while they may pretenting to be shy and submissive and looking into a man eyes sparingly, they are also usually looking at a man groin and checking him out but very subtly and covert.

If you're a man, remember that women are reading and decoding your body language whether you realise it or not, so learning how it's done can give you an equal footing. 

I know women are better when it comes to reading emotions, manipulating the situation and using an appropriate lie since men are not good at detecting whether a person is lying or not. And not just lying. Women can tell complicated lies as opposed to simple lies men tell that are easily detectable. So, if your woman cheats and you are not sure, she can do it again knowing too well she has to just coin a brilliant lie.

In those merry-go rounds and chama meeting women attend, don't they discuss about how their men perform in bed? Some women are crafty and hire money hungry handsome college graduates to service them while they lie to their men they are out for bonding in some unknown location. 

Since it is the month of love. I want to enter the intimate zone of many ladies as possible. If I find a lady whose pupils will be dilating while am giving her loose vibes. Then I will be sure that whatever I am reading is not a lie. It says that, "Women's pupils dilate faster than men's to create rapport with what their brain sees as another person's eyes."

And when it comes to getting effective results while on a date, women should wear red lipstick that has some licentious FX on the average bloke. It is usually an aphrodisiac that make men go wild even if you are not hell pretty. 

[Photo Source: Openphoto.net]

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