KEPSA-KYEP TRAINING: WHAT NEXT

How does one remain hopeful amid frustrations and disappointments he is going through in life?


The answer lies in nothing other than being steadfast, having a positive attitude and paying attention to what is good about your life. Life is unpredictable. A predictable one is again very boring and bland. Today is a king in disguise. Make hay while the sun shines.


There was this program started by the Kenyan government. It was in its sixth cycle of implementation. It was being executed by KEPSA-KYEP and funded by World Bank. It was to give the youth a chance of working in a corporate or jua kali setting, having a chance of getting a worthy employer and most of all, and earning while being taught on various facets of work place etiquette in the quest to being an intern. Internship would probably lead to a permanent job.


When such big names are involved in a project, it has to be venture that is highly credible and worth giving it a try. It was a program meant to provide a platform for young guys to hone their skills in becoming who they aspire to be. In Kenya, going straight into the career you desire in life is always tricky. You need to pull left, right and centre until you become content that what you are doing is actually what you are passionate about especially if you studied it.


The KEPSA-KYEP project had two phases. The first phase involved being trained in preparation for internship and the second involved going to the workplace after successfully passing an interview. The first phase was divided into three parts and took the longest. There is the commendable and worthy part which involved being trained on Life Skills albeit it should have been taught to those not yet conservative about life. Life Skills training was very transformative and did change many by equipping them with skills that were very essential. It was the best part of the training.


The second part was too somnolent. Being in a class where one has to act like a student for eight continuous hours in an detached one man show classes which left many daydreaming as a way of killing boredom. It was the Core Business Skills classes. Although it was a worthy aspect as part of a process, it was poorly executed because some of those who were facilitating the program did flout the rules of engagement. They made many feel indifferent and muggy because they disregarded the course manual they were to implement, focusing on what they thought was right even though they only read word for word on what they had been teaching in college.


The last part was being retrained on Life Skills, dubbed 'Advanced Life Skills' which was more of a recap of what was learnt in the first Life Skills training. It was a so-so venture. Not as serious as the first life skills training. 


You need to start from somewhere, even that somewhere can be quite a daunting task to find when everything looks bleak and far-fetched. My main intention of going through the program was to learn one or two things that would reshape my scope of thought. It was not an avenue of it being a means to an end. I had the freedom to decide on what I wanted. Ideally, I wanted to delegate some duties to worthwhile professionals who could adroitly do it because it was a challenge doing it on my own and they promised to deliver (which they did).


KEPSA program is not for the faint-hearted and those who never take risks. I liked it because I got to hear new stories, someone matching my skills with the right job as I did loll waiting for a response and meeting new people which was paramount as people are the source of stories. Stories I would never have heard had if I had continued with my quest in life of only applying for jobs, waiting for an automated reply, hoping things will be well and probably securing to be called to one or two interviews which are sometimes an effort in futility because Kenyans have become very cynic as potential employers sometimes want to give jobs to those they know or those experienced.


I must give credence where it deserves. The program was indeed an inspiration to many. It changed the attitude of many not forgetting the fact that it also imparted those who had no skills with the requisite avenue for gaining knowledge on aspects they had never known existed in life. Kudos there.


The objective of the project was well thought. Implementation was the only gaffe it had to address. KEPSA never came up with a proper mechanism of implementing the program. It was dragging too much. You take 5 months being trained on a process that should have lasted not more than two months. Most of the time, you are waiting. Waiting to attend an interview with a prospective employer (not employer but a place to do your internship) who has the prerogative to take or leave you. You are at the whims of both KEPSA and the prospective employer. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in the process.


Another folly is that you never choose who you want to work for. However, you have the chance of rejecting an offer if it is not in line with your career objective. Some out rightly rejected offers of which come to think of it, the prospects were offering a better leeway that could they could have harnessed if they were not all too cocky. At the end they would have thoroughly gained. 


Ralph Marston once wrote that, “The person you are inside, does not depend on the things happening on the outside. A life of success comes from remaining steadfast to your own purpose. And using, rather than being consumed by, the whims of circumstance.”


Indeed being yourself in this world that is trying to make you someone else is very tricky. You have to look at all the avenues to make it in life. When one does not work out, you find another that is rewarding. It is an accomplishment to stand erect amid the challenges bequeathed by Mother Nature. 


KEPSA still remains as an outstanding option as an avenue of empowering the youth in comparison to other programs you have to pay for. It offers what other programs that have been started by other body corporate have failed to abridge. It is free, you get paid even though the stipend is barely satisfactory, you get to network, find solace that you are not alone in the search for employment and most of all, you not only have a high chance of getting a job, but you improve on your CV because other than having a chance of attending interviews, it builds on ones self esteem and personal awareness among other components that one never really knew. Also those mercurial enough started companies and youth groups. Overall, it inspired many and opened new doors to a majority set for few who quit along the way. 


My friend Peter is one good example. He knew exactly how the whole project was to impact in his life. His main motivation was to attend, gain some skills, and help pass it on to other youths who needed the motivation to walk through the storm even when the weather was continuing to exacerbate. The job objective was not paramount to him as such. He had seen how the society back in his home was degenerating and he thought of using the knowledge acquired to better the society as a result of his engagement with other youth who had resigned to life’s fate. He was probably going to address their plight having gone to university and expanded his breadth of knowledge through this program because drugs were taking rein of a generation that is the future of the country and county not forgetting the high drop out rate because many see no need of going to school when you never secure a white collar job.


Hitherto, I had had a feeling that I was retrogressing and probably wasting my time while going through the project. Even in campus I sometimes felt like things were not working out. But I never did relent. I did surge on like I did with KEPSA. I remain hopeful that there is light at the end of the tunnel even though I have been lackluster in interviews which I realized am not very good at. I deserve a pat on the on the back which I will give myself for having been steadfast persevering amid vexations that life bestows.


On the flip side, KEPSA had its own challenges. While some people were going for interviews, others were never attending. Some got placed in places they had no clue even though KEPSA insisted they had filled a form on their academic capabilities which forced them to find these young men and women a place that matched their skills. Some went for interviews only to be told they had not been scheduled for such.


Also, the number of people they were dealing with was kind of overwhelming. As such, they could not effectively meet the deadline as there was spillover, meaning those who had not got internship in time had to wait. A value that many lack. Patience pays, but many a youth want a quick exit plan to the next stage (I am part of them only that I am never rigid. I know the essence of growth).


What’s more, I have been thinking, what if I qualified to be an intern in the jobs I was to undertake. Would I not have been well placed to have a good exit strategy that would have been effective in executing my action plan. 


I wish my eyes would have not given me a set back (I am shortsighted). I would have gone to the police recruitment exercise today and tried my lack in starting a career in being a cop. Haisulu. There is always a way in this life. Maybe, I should look into the bigger picture. Who knows, the fight has been one challenge that is very good and worth every bit of it.


Verdict on KEPSA-KYEP.   

I will not endeavour to besmirch the whole exercise. Obviously, there are those who talk ill while in a way they did benefit. In comparison to those who have found a place to start off to those who have not, it is prudent to recognize the efforts of those who work tirelessly to ameliorate the lives of the youth. Those who felt betrayed, you always got something. Even if it means increasing your phone-book size, that is a benefit. Joining a whatsapp group that helps in keeping you posted on what’s trending, jobs, alerting on what is on offer, insecurity and those videos that make you laugh out loud. I bet the list is endless.


The incubators of the idea should have gone further and forewarned that it is not absolute to graduate. I wish I would have addressed each and every issue but my perspective is not as wide as that of a group, I may have faltered in being brisk and brazen. From the facilities of choice, the facilitators, the cheap food (I could not come to terms with eating chicken at Sh. 50, why lie). Knowing new people, seeing beautiful ladies who are also giving men a run for their money, receiving money you wish you could save but can’t because it is so meager. However, listening to the stories of others, those who have made it and those still trying, those who had lost hope but their river reemerged because KEPSA offered them the water to replenish it. 


If only the project could be given a new lease, reducing on the drop out rate because it was too high, then, it would have gained the right traction to project the youth at a trajectory of ensuring they fulfill their dreams. In the meantime, life continues, lessons learnt, mistakes made and wisdom gained is what gives life its wholesomeness.


SITUONANE.


[Photo Source: Google Images]

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1824 (MDCCCXXIV) LANG’ATA

1824 Whiskey Club is eponymous and probably pastiche. The last time I visited this club was in 2014 at the wee or exit stages of the year. The club was still upcoming and the number of revelers were quite skewed. Initially, the location had always served as a garage for the semi-skilled mechanics who plied their trade until the owners of the land forced them to shift base. I bet they went to those sides near Splash or on your way to Phenom Estate.

The major activity that is carried out in the piece of land has not changed much though. They still cater for motor lovers but in a more professional way through the auto fitness centre that I bet is kind of cosy because the grease monkeys employed are trained in institutions of higher learning.

The place also offers other services like Car Wash and a modern Barbershop among other services that I overlooked because I was never going to investigate on the same. Of course 1824 is the main attraction at night when it turns into a bubbly nightclub.  

Now, let me tell you something. You see, 1824 is not your average pub. It usually gets packed like the grains on a maize cob. It has to do with the kind of publicity it has got over the short period it has been in existence. It chocks with Nairobians who want association with everything that is new and attracts favorable reviews. In fact, it has belittled Rafikiz that is behind it literally.

The last time I was in the place, I never knew I would write about it. But when my sister in campus told me that all her friends were talking about the club like a trending topic, I had to switch gears. The blogosphere was also awash with the new club in town causing shivers and ripples among established brands.

This club attracts a rather mature crowd in their late twenties to early forties. The waitresses were not good-looking neither are they ugly. They were average apart from few who had curvy derrieres with slightly big booties. Those hawking tots were all over. Carlsberg was their official clothing line.

The ladies who came to rave here were not skimpily dressed apart from a few ones who obviously were in search for that someone.

As you enter the nightclub, you are frisked by ignorant bouncers as you hear music blaring from the speakers, the kind that booms in your ears making your heart accelerate until till they beat in unison. The intermingled smells of smoke and sweat and too many people instantly assault your nostrils as you inhale deeply while pushing your body through the pulsating throng (It is a mixture of shisha, fart, bang and cigarette). The open air setting allows for drum like tables that sots have to use on late arrival because the club attracts all kinds of people. You seldom see odieros. A plus though is that on the day you are there, marauding ladies are not on their heels in pursuit of them because some Kenyan ladies have a thing for jungus.

The lounge in I824 is average. The interiors are not so eye catching and the aesthetic values are okay for a modern nightclub in Nairobi. The lighting is enough for the eye since the high ceiling has awesome lights incandescent from it though dusky as usual. Which means it is tomblike or womblike because your eyes have to adjust to the imminent darkness in the club. 

The prosaic corollas which is the face of motor ownership in the city were the order of the day outside. However, there were a few Range Rovers and Mercedes which implies something. Kenyans never experiment much.

Oh! You find an empty drum and order for seats because sipping pints while standing can be disastrous. This nightclub is rather bland from the outside (It is a no go zone when rains pour). I did make my order but because I had had some scotch while in the digs, my system could not take in alcohol at a very fast rate. A shisha was ordered and the waiter in charge brought a hookah which methinks was laced with ale though it had a strawberry taste. I hate smoking, but I was coerced to try out this Shisha. It was my first time. I ended up coughing like incoherently but pretended because the master smoker of the stuff was a lady (she brew the smoke up like those cool Hollywood A-stars). I realized that shisha is not my stuff. I placed the pipe down. It aint cool as I had earlier envisioned.

And writing of smoking, I saw a certain chic who was in the same college with my elder sister (she is a news anchor). My siz had always intimated stories as to why the chic had dark lips. She was a chain smoker. I noticed she smokes like a chimney. Being a renowned personality, she attracted many men in her groupie of ladies. Most men only wanted to say hi to her and on realizing the aura is female, left.

1824 has no dancing floor for those who love dancing, but you can create space and dance your heart out if you love shaking dem legs to the music. It also does not take care of soccer fans because it only has two lounges while a majority of revelers sit outside. When crowded, you have to stand till you get an empty space.

When a hot chic you have been eyeing refuses to dance with you, you feel a little out of place. And I kind of felt red faced because the chic was with a dude almost her father’s age who was a pathetic dancer. I must say I never insist when a stranger lady says no. But if it is someone know, it is different.

A certain groupie of ladies also caught my eye. They were dressed in black in dresses that barely covered their asses with huge phones they never let go of. They looked like ladies of the night in some way with their high-heeled stilettoes and thickly smeared make-up on their faces. I fear such ladies and their lesbian kind of dancing pissed me off.   

It being midmonth, I had speculated that drunkards never spend. Not so fast. There was this group of gordita ladies who came with some two gentlemen in tow. They were given a drum and were ordering ‘mizinga’ at the same time taking shorts of expensive gin and rum.  

However, a fight ensued when a certain dude who probably tried to hit on the lady broke a bottle of the pricey drinks they were having.

I saw two of the ladies slapping the dude like he was some dummy with no feelings. He was being shielded by one of the guys who had accompanied the ladies from attacking the ladies. But when the other guy from the group saw things going haywire, he joined the melee.

The next thing I saw was the dude who was receiving slaps squaring it out with the two ladies and the scene was now a cat-fight. Other people joined in. If I was in the dudes shoes, I would have done just what he did. Two ladies cannot give you five slaps and you are doing nothing. He broke the glasses of one of the ladies because he jumped on them and started beating them up with one lady receiving some blows before the bouncers took over after watching the club almost going in amok for a few minutes.

The chaps were whisked away as we went to left, the cab driver having made it in time to pick us up. Inside is when I got to learn that probably the guys were fighting because they had no enough cash and they wanted the dude to foot the bill. Sorry to say I never had the exact words of the verbal exchange between the ladies and the dude because all along I was irate because I could not fathom how the dude was being slapped and he was doing nothing. When he got into his senses and did give the two ladies a good hiding, I felt relieved and happy. That he was calm upon being provoked was not a lie and anyone who is belittled by tiny ladies would have reacted the same. Ladies should know better, brawls should be among men in a club.

SITUONANE.

[Photo Source: Google Images]

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THIS BLOG CALLED GHAFLA!

Addiction is the word when it comes to Ghafla! I have tried to deactivate my mind from the notion of thinking about this blog but it has become like the virulent cocaine in my system (Someday I will see this stuff coz I only see it on telly). Ghafla! It has grown from a ragtag blog that used to cherish showcasing nude women as a measure of attracting traffic to a more professional (sic) site over the years that has credibility and probably reliable. Actually I believe it has not yet got to that standard of being termed as fully professional, maybe say amateur. In fact quitting Ghafla will take more than good intentions and goodwill and being convinced it does not add value in my life. I have it as a speed dial on my phone just to check on what’s hot and trending. 

I love gossip (Who doesn't anyway, the blogs force you to like them because they rely on it). While I am yet to find an author in Ghafla who has a way of magically using words that obliterate the average Joe in penmanship into smithereens, their art in delivery is simply more than magical, scintillating and laxative- fuck I had to use this word though in a word- breathtaking. They are pestering, rabid and vociferous. Like the bible affirms, "Remind them even if they are on the know." Somewhere in 2 Peter Chapter 1. My uncle knows how to put it best in jeng. 'Par ne gi uru kata ging'eyo.'

Their slogan is perhaps what draws one more closer as it ideally matches what they promise to deliver- 'Fighting Boredom | Promoting Stardom.' Methinks they should re-brand to something like promoting ratchetness to stardom. Why? Good question if you may have asked. Ghafla promotes some of our ladies as sex objects and their stories are centered on these ladies- both connoisseurs and upcoming. They have redefined the word socialite. As long as you have a big curvaceous booty (men never get enough of these) that in a way let those final curves collide to meet a nice contoured butt, smooth, well toned and cellulite-less thighs, a triangle at top inside thigh which light and air can pass, that would be perfection very rarely seen, a penchant for publicity and photos to validate the same that have been neatly photoshopped. You are good to go.

And the number of prostitutes in the name of socialites that the blog make us believe are having a rosy lifestyle, (indeed lying to the average Jane is as easy as ABC) are skyrocketing by the day. If I was a lady, I would fake it till I make it. What with the increasing number of outlets in town offering avenues of skin lightening, fake doctors injecting the booty with silicon (read cement) and of course make up that you can find cheaply before making it or crossing the river to the other side of prosperity (read weaves of Sh. 5million and shoes of sh. 2million). And probably spend more time in the gym to have a body to die for because men are visual creatures.

I sometimes usually listen to the reaction of some of the socialites on blog who are interviewed and their videos uploaded on their YouTube Handle having gone to Ghafla offices. The girls fit the role society has bestowed on them. I usually feel like they are giving me strong and high octane emetic owing to the fact that they are  overrated and proving more ratchet and obtuse.

However, they give men what they want. I am sure that dude of Ghafla Guy And Girl has his phone in constant activity especially on a Friday when men want to unwind with a beautiful damsel by their side. Oh and he could be a better PIMP if he whets his acumen and discovers he is holding onto a gem that can rake in millions. In the US, that momentarily gives you a clout and good avenue to break even and start swimming in the world of profusion.

Work ethic however can’t allow that. It would be suicidal. Especially if reported, but who cares. You can always chameleon your way out of trouble. However this requires a Dexter who does not fumble. I doubt the chap has the acuity of pulling the scheme and smiling all the way to the bank.

The surge and growth of Ghafla as a force to reckon with has been geometric and colossal. When you think it is kicking the bucket, like the ubiquitous cat with nine lives, it resurfaces. Niaje died and went under and was interred. It resurrected but things have never been the same again. Not Ghafla. It has endured the pitfalls of the blogging world to be among the very best if not the best in the country, razzmatazz is the word. While they rival magazines like Pulse and Buzz, they still need to come up with new ways that will lead the two struggling magazines to actually go six feet under. They may lead them to their deathbed because what is found in the magazines is simplified by this blog among many other blogs that scramble for hits using gen that others have used resources to collect and acquire.

The emergence of many blogs that flout the laws on copyright infringement which are not being reined on by CA is one issue that should actually be addressed. While I tend to think that most of the information that Ghafla relays to its readers is authentic, the fact that other blogs are offering nothing other than tarnishing the reputation of famous people in the name of making money online should be in fact be chastised as it amounts to career wreckage to the individual. Their copy paste approach usually gets into my nerves literally. No creativity whatsoever, just stealing. In academic lingo, plagiarism is one set back that is killing the blogosphere in Kenya.

I love the fact that Ghafla has cut a niche in the way it has been able to stick to the Kenyan entertainment scene. This has been the major folly among many blogs that never know what they really want to dwell on. It is sometimes tempting to deviate but trust Ghafla to remain on course. Specialization is never easy, it requires being steadfast. You may want to engage in it but finding motivated individuals who are passionate about what you are doing is usually a hard task that most find it hard to implement and stand by the stratagems.

Influencing people in a positive manner is one thing that I am sure the site has failed to dwell on. It carries out stories that are so mundane and although they are almost the same, there is nothing much one can expect. ‘Hazinijengi’ is what I can attest to how I feel about the stories that Ghafla carries out. You sometimes want to read a story that is inspiring, out of the world, of things that are accurate especially that relate to how you can get to the next level in terms of fulfillment but you only find empty words. There is nothing for the average Joe that will give him a new dawn or wow them into beliving that indeed super-humans do exist.

Sometimes back, reading the blog was very interesting because they relayed the information in a terse manner and you would not spend all your time reading a story. They had mastered the art of hitting the nail on the head, brevity and going straight to the point when delivering. The idea of many pages for a single story was never part of the plot or the script. Ideally, when you want to make someone read or see what you are doing, never let him go through many hurdles. It’s not like one is sitting for an exam to read all that content. And since most people rely on Safcom bundles, you need to be considerate because opening so many pages is not only annoying but also poverising.

I love the fact that Ghafla ventured in stories that the conservative media failed in addressing, porn, prostitution, and well glorifying sex which is untoward morally in the conservative African setting. However, Standard Digital Entertainment wing of Standard Digital still offers this blog a run for their money (damn those stories are a must read). They deliver stories that people want. Funding has also made them better off. But again, Ghafla compensates on this by giving many stories and being their five days a week.

Awhile back, I used to read this blog because they summarized all the hot pepper gossip from all the major media houses, just to ensure that they had something on their blog. That the blog has grown is not a lie. They have the requisite muscles and influence and they have made many people famous (). Their advertising wing has really done a tremendous job. I can’t lie that I have at times been influenced to some extent by them. All in all, I pass by the weblog because I consider the site a place to unwind. It is serious.

The Ghafla girls, these girls are hot, like hotter than fire and their beauty is bewildering. They have the looks, Fundamentals and rangi ya thao. You ogle at them and you wish. But if wishes were horses, beggars would ride on them. I once saw a chic I knew from Campus who made it to be a Ghafla girl and thought she had stooped so low. Then, I thought that it was an avenue of profiling yourself as a prostitute because ideally, most of the chics who had been profiled were reeking of being hoes. Unbeknownst to me, the chic was actually a model- those who do clothes. While I cannot surmise that models are also ladies of the night. One thing that is true, everyone wants money, how it comes or how you make it does not matter. As long as you pay your bills, never give a damn about what the world things. Money is power.

This reminds me of a certain lady who said that in the event she got an avenue of getting free money through being a high class prostitute, she would take the opportunity like yesterday with open arms. In her opinion, as long as you are sleeping with a man and he pays, there is no crime. Willing buyer, willing seller. (The chic liked shopping, feeling cool and all that, those who consider themselves as expensive). In this world, make hay while the sun shine.

I bet the Ghafla girls usually give some ladies headaches because the hotels they hang out in, the well toned bodies and their small tummies that excite the average male not forgetting the fact that those ladies have the requisite attire to accentuate their curves.

Sometimes I wonder why the site come up with list like; top ten celebrities who have won in a fart festival by farting loudly and that which clings to your olfactory senses long after you left the scene you need a gas mask, Top ten female celebrities who are still virgins but going out with elderly men because the have the shekels, List of men who have had a dry spell in the last five weeks and the list of titles is endless.

But I bet Ghafla it may be fair TMZ in Kenya. Trending Newsroom and Mpasho just come second to this site. A plus for Ghafla is that they have enabled mobile view in the site. However, the annoying advertisements sometimes put me off. If only Ghafla could minimize on too much advertisement. Another drawback is that they only work during the weekdays like some white collar executives.

Trust Ghafla to have mustered their audience. They brandish names such as Corazon, Huddah, Vera, not forgetting Risper. These names have built the site to what it has become.

Trust Ghafla to glorify what they are not supposed to. They have influenced even the born again self confessed Christians to backslide. How can a socialite who still plies the trade acknowledge that she is saved? Sometimes I tend to think that religion is something personal and even though we have gospel artistes who drink booze, that is their personal life. Which we are VERY interested in. Mulika Mwizi however. Professing faith and not being a stickler to it yet you get paid through it is actually being a con.

The regular contributors of Ghafla should adopt a strategy that does not stick to what is obvious. They should have a paradigm shift and try other new things because they have become too predictable. You never get the urge to open the pages to read the stories they are trying to let the reader peruse. A quick bird’s eye on the home page gives one the idea of what the writers are trying to let you know. That is make you open the link to read the story.

I can’t single out one writer who I can attribute to being my favorite. I read their stories because they are writers and reading is my favourite pastime
Sadly, the site has been having technical hitches in the way making it go down sometimes, failing to respond in phones when you want to see pictures and maybe too much pressure from having high traffic. 

SITUONANE.

PS:

[Photo Source: Google Images (Various)]

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FUCK THIS SHIT CALLED BLOGGING

There is total frustration in this revered field of illusion called blogging. I want to surmise on my blog so far. The blog stats are deplorable. Writing like a wordsmith using words that are indeed sentimental and more so invigorating as opposed to enervating has become so big a challenge, I am at times more lethargic as opposed to being vivacious. 

Sometimes you just find it very boring to sit down in order to pen an article, or you become tired even before the best thought process that you had becomes conceived into something that is very substantial.

In fact, I should have quit this shit long ago when I realized I was headed nowhere. But there is that motivation from somewhere that keeps on urging me to stay put, I don’t know where it comes from. Surmise to say, it could be the personal initiative I have taken. Or maybe the commitment and determination to hone my skills and maybe take them to another level as opposed to getting stuck in a rut and having nowhere to seek solace from.

What I know is however more fulfilling, knowledge of the fact that there are so many people who are struggling to take the first step to assert themselves in what they want to do in life which is an indication that I have taken the road less travelled.

Blogging is a very frustrating venture in the long run or even the short term. There seems to be that force that is holding you back that never will let you break even. There is something in life that is very essential in life. Whenever you communicate, you expect feedback. When it is not forthcoming, you become very sordid. This effectively comes in form of commenting to a post. It should be done in a subtle manner devoid of spewing invectives and full of cogent incentive to the writer to continue with the craft. Criticizing the content and seldom committing the fallacy of ad hominen should be a strongpoint on a reader.

Ideally, most readers usually never know what they want. Even if they know what they want, they have to be aptly persuaded that whatever they are being offered is indeed good for their consumption. That means one has to be on a continuum know of what to provide to those who need what they are being provided with.

There are some forms of blog marketing that have worked for some people. Owning a blog has become the in thing. If you are not writing then you are probably left out. But that is not true. Majority of people know how to write. The only setback that hinders there aspiration is the time factor, ability to sacrifice and to withstand the storm of being berated and never given the due encouragement even when things are not rosy. The process of communication is very complex. 

One must sacrifice some luxuries and indeed time in order to spend that time penning content they will never get bored in taking to the next level even when the going gets tough. Why? There is never any motivation that comes from blogging. There is no pay at all lest you have the requisite audience that provides a mass market for advertising. Again, holding on to that market is the tricky part because most of it easily get debilitated when you frequency of posting is either getting into their nerves or too slow to get the desired impact that they really needed.

However, even though there is nothing to smile about. Holistically, it makes one to think in 3D. Thinking and relaying the thought process into words is sometimes an intricate process that has to be mustered in various ways only known to the author.

SITUONANE

[Picture Source: Pixabay]

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THE LONELY RECLUSE

Having used the same word twice, I have no reason for doing so only that there was no better way that I could think of to execute it sagaciously.

I have always been fascinated by how life has become. There is this notion that among my peers that it is not easy out there. Yes it is not, but that does not mean we let nature takes its course. Ideally, there is always something to smile about even when things are not working out.

I remember a friend telling me the story of one chap whose old-man was a kind of rich. Yes, those chaps who suffer from jet lag and stuff and they have no time to waste with those who add no value to their lives. Albeit they are arrogant, they tend to be very lax on certain things because life does not bequeath upon an one all the skills in parenthood or juggling the jigsaw that is life.

In the works
.

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WHEN KEMU CAME CALLING.

Dan Ariely quipped that, “We are pawns in a game whose forces we largely fail to comprehend”.

Ever wondered what happens in KEMU Towers that is along University Way and directly opposite Ambank House. Well I had always had the same issue boggling my mind for more than half a decade. While I was a student at the nearby Main Campus, I had always had this hanker of knowing what was happening behind the imposing structure. The only contact I had with the building was the fast food restaurant that sold unpalatable fries and a couple of snacks and junk that my appetence could not savour as the chow only qualified to being sec.

Hitherto, the building had always thrilled the design crave I ceaselessly had albeit it just being a stone through away. However the interior was too bland upon entry and the intrinsic values that I had assumed it had, all but ended up being an antithesis or say counterintuitive because it was used by students.
 
In high school, I had always had a passion for being an architect, but as circumstances would dictate, I studied a course I had an abortive period with while in Campus. In fact there was a former Starch student whom I knew who was doing architecture and the fact that he was lamenting of only scoring straight Ds in exams was quite appalling. I did pity him, but he had vowed never to fail again. I doubt if he stuck to the regimen of perusal because his flirty behavior was quite surfeit.

“So many kiosk universities have mushroomed in Nairobi in the recent past.” I recall one of our lecturers while a first year student speaking ill of and bad-mouthing the universities that were being housed on buildings that had formerly served as offices. Then as now, every form-four leaver wanted an association with Nairobi, especially the central business district. I bet that was the reason why many of them had started town campuses. To cash in on the many employees who wanted papers and the growing number of students who could not be accommodated in the congested public universities. And true to its billing and owing to matters liquidity, the quest for knowledge in universities is a goldmine that never ceases to bring in more gem. I should invest in a university.

As a former student in a public university, we had been brainwashed that we were the best students in the country having qualified to join the university. I remember a student leader boisterously making sense of words of how our campus was the place to be, the elixir of life in matters academics. You would imagine that upon completion of studies, employers would be hot on your heels in need of your services because apparently the university was the best in the country. Bulshit, if it were so, many of us would not be among the class of jobless graduates who are in search for internship (which I went for an interview for and failed like a genius having gone for swimming exams) because like Duale said, “Hii kazi si ya mamako” when teachers refused to go back to be recklessly butchered by a militia that seeks revenge through human souls. As a person with no contacts you start from somewhere.

Flash-forward and five years down the line, I am still jostling like a real Nairobi hustler hoping that someday lady luck will smile on me and I will reap the benefits of the roots of education. But even though I am not complaining, I want to transcend this apathy apace but hitting the jack-pot of being a proletariat has been a confounding tussle. I am indeed fed up with cyclical unemployment.

A blind respect for authority is sometimes the greatest enemy of truth. No matter how much I have tried, I find it sometimes too tiring sitting behind a computer. Just to type words that sometimes I am not passionate about. That was a by the way.

Life has ways in which it balances out everything that a person has to go through. Sometimes we crave for that which is beyond our might, which is right. Why? David tackled Goliath and he was successful in it. He used a weapon chastised for being less substantial in making one run out of time on earth. But it led to the fall of a giant.

When seeking knowledge, it doesn’t matter how smart you are in life. Knowledge is power, and should be appreciated for the sole reason that they better humanity. There is always something new that one gets in a classroom setting. Again going to class breaks the monotony of solitude and gives one a better perspective about life in general. You realize that you are in fact not alone in the dilemma of making ends meet.

Indeed, classes in Kemu were more skill oriented as opposed to being academic. Being in Kemu classes was an eight hour day of mindless drudgery. However, there were a few facilitators who gave a text-book approach by reading notes while in essence they should have given those attending the courses skills through endeavoring to inculcate practical ways of going about life situations. Some were very interesting.

Ideally, the youth generation is in need of skills that are quite deficient in them (peer pressure and hopelessness may kill this generation which should be the future of our country). This has led many to be vexed as a result of going through a tumultuous journey when they are not getting to the next level as quickly as desired.  

On the flipside, I must give the Kemu security detail a thumbs up for what they did in ensuring the institution is well secured. Their sentries and security detail were thorough. Entry entailed having a name tag or knowledge of the office where you were going. Frisking was done using metal detectors and even though I sometimes did doubt the severity of the gadgets, they in a way curbed crime to some extent.
However, there was a certain CID officer who told me he occasionally bypassed the scrutiny even though he had his gat concealed under his belt.

Then there were these Naswa crew who loved filming their caught unawares videos next to the towers along university way. Somehow, we had got wind of them and even though they tried had to NASA us, theirs were efforts in futility. We were too nifty for them. The first persons we usually spotted were the cameraman and the support staff who made a barrier to hide the camera from view. The problem with the cameraman was that he never let another person handle his gadget. As such, if you were a regular, you easily noticed them because they came at a time when we were having a short break from the monotonous classes that I felt were eating into my precious time.

One of their acts that caught my eye was a hobo who subconsciously approached some ladies and they ran helter skelter because they feared they would be smeared with excretion from the open executive chambers of release. He was carrying a dirty sack that was filth grey. Since we were aware of what was happening, we had to giggle. However some betrayed us as they sounded more like an evil cackle than an expression of amusement when they could not suppress the chortle hence bursting into loud laughter.

But there was one pastor who was role playing pretending to be praying like the ubiquitous fake preachers in Jevanjee or next to Hilton or near Archives. The ones with the ulterior motive of collecting alms from the unsuspecting public. And he did it as he took out an offertory collection bag and started soliciting from those unaware. This Naswa preacher was however not successful with the act as someone on the frustration benches near Kemu which we had branded our DSTV (to check out on the babes and cars) was almost slapped by a job-seeking vagrant whose visage had the wrinkles of a wretched chap even though he was trying hard to shrug and pretend stoicism.

One of my pals, Willy, was once a comrade in this campus (Kemu) and was able to help me  to cascade the building in detail. Like we sometimes went to the rooftop to bangaiz and eclipse from others. It was either to watch TV or just engaging in palaver about our frustrations with our predicaments and how someone was taking us for a ride.

Mark you, there are chaps in Kemu (Kemu comrades) have this flair of feeling hyper. Always twanging in some borrowed accents and feeling dope even though they adorn phony haute couture and cleats and quoins that give them some lackadaisical posture because they try to act that which they are not. Who knows, fake it till you make it. Life is what you make it.

Something about the ladies though. I never knew that some ladies are just plain Janes.  For once I appreciated the notion that even if a lady is not a looker, a little bit of makeup would just be fine, even research collaborates the same. Like there was a certain chic with very dark fingers that were also sandpaper like, you had the feeling she was either from Kano plains or Mwea because I have a feeling the combination of water and the plants leads to the sore distasteful look and feel.

The choice of Kemu for classes was a very bad decision. The general ambience of the rooms does not auger well for a classroom set up. Especially when the loo cleaners have not acted on the small rooms and the weather is torrid and the scorching heat from the sun meant that the door should be ajar. The classes should have at least been equipped with a fan to counter the stifling air to reduce exhaustion because the choice of glass used was a disaster albeit the fact that it should have contributed to placid air conditioning. Again the classes had very few windows which contributed to the rooms at times being stuffy since there was controlled ventilation.

Then there were Kemu elections. While I had though of it being intense. The candidates contesting for posts were callow and the air was not as tense as elections should be. One did not get the feeling of the euphoria that characterizes such occasions. One of my friends had a hot curvaceous chic who was a platonic friend. He wanted me to hit on her. She was contesting. She wanted us to go vote for her during the plebiscite (sic) but we couldn’t. The reason why I failed to hit on her was because she was material girl and my wallet was wallowing in aridity plus it being a Friday.

SITUONANE

[Photo Source: Google Images]

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