WHAT TO DO?

I think thoughts beget ideas, ideas when acted upon can result into something worthwhile or that which will not be substantial enough to see the light of day.  The excitement of conjuring ideas is that we tend to develop a backtrack approach when things are not working. We end up looking for the easy route as opposed to being patient and persistent to reach the desired objective even when the going is tough and emaciating.

Sometimes I regret having left the noble profession of teaching. I am enthused about the fact that it one of the most imperative careers that we cannot do without. However the doors are not closed as such. They will be open in the future. When another door opens, you grab it with open arms. And in the event they do open (lecturing), I want to have a large student base. Not teaching a single student which is not only boring but also very less on boosting one's morale. I now know how PHD tutors feel when they have a single student in class. It truly its demotivating, but that is behind me now.

"What to do?" Exactly, that is a question. One which you must answer in terms of providing solutions that are tangible, profitable, long-lasting and dependable. Ideally, it is quite funny when you are talking with someone and when she is stuck, she asks you, "What to do?"

Albeit I am clearly not under this boss who frequently asks us what to do, never mind that our boss has been in the country for the past few years and she still has not yet acquainted herself to the Queen's lingo due to factors ranging from being conservative, old age because it makes it difficult to master the language of other or utterly looking down upon it. Her grasp is belligerent and amusing. Still she is madam boss in the meantime.

Either way, methinks continuous interaction with this employer will have Grammatical consequences on the kind of English we speak. What with the elimination of very essential elementary components of language all in the name of communication? It is not even fair that we insist on making the employer not taking steps to improve on her spoken language. We are a letdown to ourselves and to the employer. Even some of the employees have been affected by the lingo and easily never realize it.

Looking at the bigger picture however, this platform provides us with the necessary experience in the event we find greener pastures and the experience bit will demarcate us from those who have never worked before. It is also a way of being busy. Man must be busy. Working or thinking.

You realize that most employers never 'sink' sorry, think, that someone can stay at home idle while there are many jobs to do (Just realized we most people don’t look for jobs thoroughly. Mtafuta hachoki, akichoka keshapata). They want you to at least be doing a job, whether it is mjengo or anything constructive. Yet not everyone can do these jobs or want to do them. Most of us love to hustle less, we want things on a silver platter. That is why I sit from eight to five everyday behind a computer looking for ways to earn a living. But who does not want to earn money? Unless you have no needs, you can afford to sit and do nothing because you are being provided for everything that you need.

However, unemployment is real- we bury our heads in the sand like an ostrich feigning it does not exist when we get employed. Just the tag that you have somewhere you are doing a job is better that sitting slothfully waiting for someone to bring in what to eat. Reminds me of a certain chic who refused to sit at home even though she was employed, she could not be able to raise enough transport to bring her back to Nairobi because the figure she was earning was paltry. But since she had nowhere to go and earn some better pay, she was hanging around till that time when she will be smiled upon by mother nature and get that big break. Money is scarce. We can do virtually anything to earn it.

Which leads me to the question: How to people who get a big break earlier on in life behave? Do they feel like they own the world? Or is it that they realize that with a breakthrough comes what we call, class association. Where you want to join the clique and act like them because of the new found status. Yes most of us want to be employed, but looking at the bigger picture, employment is never satisfactory anywhere. 

When you are at home unemployed, you usually have worries, like why am I the only one going through this hard moments? Why did I have to struggle in school to become a person the society belittles with the education I have? Then when you get employed you realize that your employer is not quite elite (in some cases). He pays driver more than he pays you even though you are a graduate and employed at the same time. But he pays you end month, right. He speaks broken English yes, has uncouth demeanor you wish he was schooled to a certain level. Whatever ideas he has are quite parochial but you weigh the options and after introspection, you come to a conclusion that the world is not static. So are the ideas of the employer. 

There is something about being in the workforce that many fail to understand. We need to be in a continuous stream of updating ourselves with that which will aid us in not being utterly redundant. Learning in the workplace is even more harder because if you are not meeting the targets, you are a being a general waste to the company which may mean being shown the door anytime.

Job security is not normally assured. However, when you are in the workplace, you need to do your able best until that point in life when you cannot do it anymore. In most scenarios, we focus on what we are being paid rather than what we can deliver. We are of the opinion that since we earn less, we cannot stretch our elastic limit just a little bit more. We are not like a rubber band which when pushed hard, it breaks or a ductile object that deforms when it goes past its elastic limit.

But the pay is not equal to the qualifications? The labour-force is too congested we are told. Those with the requisite skills however are not many. They are few. That is the reason why someone sticks to a job because of the fear that there may not be another place in the event you quit or get sacked.

Working with no aim is however not good. I am a slave to my work for the short while I will be doing it. The short while maybe years, decades or even jubilee. What is for sure is that the much that I will have learnt will be able to demarcate me from those who never take stock. Since I used to lament about wanting paid employment, no matter how little the pay may be, I realized I need to be making steps towards moving to the next level and ameliorating my status quo. That I will figure out when life smiles on me abundantly given I know the measures I need to take.

What I however will never forget is the fact that I have grown in breath and width with this blog. Now I am not even thinking of being unemployed. I am thinking of how I can unleash my potential to splash it like a mustard seed does in it being a tree. 

HASTA LA VISTA BABY

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FACEBOOK MALWARE

I have decided to deactivate my Facebook account till  further notice. But I earn my living through Facebook. A living that has made me a prisoner of the computer because I have to repeatedly spend so much time behind the screen thinking of the most ingenious and creative way to attract clients who I am in charge of as digital marketer. Could it be that the force of darkness have conspired to bring me down in this era where finding a job is as hard as finding mayai ya ng'ombe. I am not superstitious though. 

Anyway, I have this thing piercing painfully on my heart causing it to beat laboriously and continuously because I am even ashamed to open up on the string of porn attacks that have invaded my account (they regenerate the moment I close them). What I thought of as a link that I was tagged on which appeared on the notification bar turned out to be sexually explicit malware and what I presume is an impending doom or is it ominous in retrospect. I have to ensure I check notifications occasionally. 

Ever since I left my former job, I have been having a feeling that I can be fired anytime. This feeling of foreboding has been complicated by the fact that I was kind of pessimistic in joining this new job. What with freedom that comes with being a lecturer. This one is like being in penitentiary. You only leave the workplace to go for lunch or head home.

Facebook has messed me up. I am feeling nauseated about the whole thing and how it has impacted in my new found salaried stature (Never mind that it was what I negotiated for , even though it is not much). But again that which is not much is what I have been advised to be content with pending my big break. Mmmmmmmmh!! It is called the inadequacy mentality. Easily agreeing to an offer because you need to grow.

This Facebook app has ruined the impending big break. It has portrayed me in the eyes of the public as someone who is duly immoral and lacking the requisite moral fibre expected in society. A society that does seem to be blind on the fact that some of the vices that it tries to emasculate are indeed a reality. And the bootleg has caused many of our girls to be lured into it because society expects us to have money in order to survive. Reminds me I have to watch, “Hot Girls Wanted” because I read on the Nairobian about a Kenyan lady who had been turned into a sex slave by an American.  I remember reading about the former in one of the dailies when used to work where we had newspapers. Now I have no opportunity to read about the same because this new workplace has no numbers to aid us in buying newspapers on a daily basis as staff.

That aside, the malware is a URL that will destroy my image and reputation in the eyes of the public. Which I try to uphold as much as possible because I don’t love being in collision with people I don’t care about online. But alternatively, I am a people’s person when we interact, but not over the net. I usually become kind of shy to talk about my share of frustrations and happiness on Facebook. Which this blog comes in handy to try and outline because it’s all about growth and looking at the bigger picture as much as it is about taking risks and taking stock.

Ever since I started it, I have grown tremendously in various bounds and facets. Even the Almighty up in heaven knows. Though at times I have been agnostic, I have to contend with the fact that He has in a way shaped my destiny. Those times when I turn to Him, I reap big. But when I deviate, I feel the pinch. His manifestations are in various ways. Which means I need to have a personal relationship with the Supreme Being because He understands the challenges I have to go through, those out of omission and commission.

As I sit idly behind a computer penning this piece of nonsensical gibbery (gibbery never exists, it’s my own creation- there is gibber though).  I am even ashamed of the fact that my employer is on Facebook and might be tempted to take a sneak peek on my account and see that which is ultimately gross and tell me in her broken English, ‘You fired, this organisation not condone abuse. No explanation. Pack and go.’ Thank goodness we are not friends on Facebook.

As a rain beaten cat, I will collect all my tools of trade and walk out because the Facebook posts have irked the many people who follow me though I have given an official statement about the spam. OK, it will be a bad day for me. Haisulu! When one door closes, another opens. But I will not be perturbed because it is something that I have been expecting. Especially when there is no clear JD. In fact, when I was interviewed, I was told I was free to do what I wanted. But you cannot be free in this current job. When someone tells you you are free and not being monitored, definitely, it means you may even think you are not going to add to the greater good of contributing towards prosperity (just saying).

Which reminds me that employees are the same everywhere. If you find a satisfied employee then there is a problem (we always complaining that we should have a review of the terms and conditions read salary). For the few places I have worked in, people are complaining in harsh tones of poor pay (You cannot resign for fear of the unknown). When you see the manager coming, you change the conversation and start talking of the weather or newspaper gossip if Kenyan, but if foreign and cannot understand Swahili, mtu wangu, mtaongea tu. Most employees seem dissatisfied yet they hang on. They have no other place to be or go, therefore they rant how bad they are mediocrely being treated. Which is true in some cases. But who cares, you are gaining experience in the meantime. Maybe it could be that we have just been blinkered by the current situation which never avails any glimmer of hope in the current manifestation.

One of my students told me he had worked for one employer for close to 8 years. The commencement date is exactly the period I cleared high-school. Yet at present, I have been looking for greener pastures everywhere I go. One student even thought I was young, asking if I cleared high-school some few years ago (less than five years). I could not imagine that I was looking that young. And worse was when a colleague in the teaching fraternity termed me a ‘mummy’s boy’. I never knew what she meant but I really got me pissed off and thinking. Yet my mum leaves in the rural areas struggling to make ends meet through peasant farming because the fast lane life in the city has become too complex for her due to her changed lifestyle. However, she spent most of her formative years living in Nairobi. 

But I am managing the name calling and all those vexations that you hear from other people. Those are some of the pitfalls you have to surmount as an individual. I say, it’s never easy.

However, I will be forced to reactivate my account because it will pay my bills in the meantime. There is somewhere I read that before you get your own inkling in society, you must have gone through those scenarios that help build your character and makes you strong. Life is about the experiences we go through. Each and every place offers you an opportunity to learn. Whatever little I have learnt in my new job at work, I am very grateful. I only need to look at the bigger picture.

[Photo Source: My own]

HASTA LA VISTA BABY.

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INTERNET AND ADVERTISING

Nothing is for free is in this world. Hitherto, I had always presumed that Facebook was the best medium to advertise online in terms of taking a business online. Not anymore. The rules have been tightened and those guys who man the social media site have come up with things they call algorithms that they use to ensure that anyone who presumes that the site is going to offer a leeway for advertising will be hell shocked.

Facebook is no longer a place where you can go and advertise for free. When you open a page, no matter how many people you have as friends, the same will never be reflected on your page. Facebook is fully commercialized. So in short, use money to get people to know you on Facebook. If you cannot do the same, then, suit yourself for some  nothing constructive. Anyone who does not spend money should not be on Facebook. Okay! If you are spending be wise. That is if you are operating a page.

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CHANGE OF JOB

You wake up one day and realize that the prayers you had been petitioning about all of a sudden changed into some reasonable reality. You get a job just like that after applying (Take note I was pushed this job even though I was qualified to do it yet I never knew it existed). You are told to report in due course because the organisation needs you and you leave your former modest job paying peanuts because it could not even afford you a piece of the inner clothe (I was an intern).

This is Nairobi I tell you, where you have to hustle even though the bustle never fails to excite. Am on my fourth job in the span of a year. The first job was bound to pay me nothing so I had to quit even before I started because it also had the expensive rules I was not going to force someone to pay bills to keep me within it in the name of gaining experience. Insurance it was complete with a letter of appointment. When I see my former campus roommate making ends meet while juggling it, I praise him for his patience and determination even though he was a family man even before joining the company.

I was introduced to my second job through an SMS. It was a network marketing company that still continues to operate even though the concept is too much American as opposed to Kenya because it reeks of being a pyramid scheme at the expense of being a real job. Whether a side hustle or not, I am not courageous enough to accept the ideology that you can make millions using network marketing because it enriches the owners more than the individual who struggles to bring business. And sincerely speaking (sorry- writing), there is no need to pay to continue working. You are taxed, then pay the company for working for them. It does not add up. But because it is business, who cares. It also provides a source of employment.

My third job happens to be the teaching job. I had always had this desire and passion for teaching ever since my mum beseeched me to become a teacher but thought of it as a lowly paying job. There is a possibility that some day, I will be a teacher or a professor again. Teaching did virtually offer a very profound platform. It is the most flexible and has no too much pressure provided you cover your syllabus in time, students never complain of your intellect and you deliver. The best thing about teaching is that it offers an avenue of telling stories. You also can play chess during your free time and juggle scrabble with amateurs who were on my receiving end most of the time.

Ideally, what I have forgotten to opine is that even though I was not able to use the multi-level networking platform to my advantage monetarily, I used it as a platform to learn. And I learnt one or two things about the profession. Luckily, there was an avenue of free learning and thank goodness, I learnt Photoshop via the platform and honed other skills because I am not a go-getter when it comes to marketing even though Nairobi has an unlimited supply of jobless people who I was to reach to form part of my network and alas, I would be on a payroll while not struggling sometimes as long as my recruitees were doing their job satisfactorily.

Now I have this job that requires me to be creative. An online job that combines my writing skills and graphic design skills which are amateurly honed. I love the job although it is quite demanding. The best thing is that it is also helping me out in matters pertaining to my blog. If things go well, I will be highly exposed on the different ways of driving traffic to my blog. Our company is an e-commerce one that retails products online. As a digital marketer, I have to ensure I drive traffic to the site through the various social media platforms. It’s not easy this days if you never invest on advertising on the major platforms.

This ought to be most restrictive job however. You see, coming from a teaching platform and then joining a firm that expects you to work, work and work, it is usually very tricky. One thing is, you have been used to a lot of independence which will be curtailed while in an office setting. Secondly, Nairobi people never take lunch. But once in a while, as a lecturer, you got a reprieve when a schoolmate took you out for some chicken and chips because the chap was feeling papers and wanted to tell you of his new found status.

There is also the possibility that your colleague may stua you with something good when he receives cash from a side hustle. Consequently, it is very friendly working as a teacher. The only downfall is that you may never grow if you stick there for long or become contented to a point where you cannot move or think clearly because of being held back by the notions of contentment or thinking there no other avenues to prosperity.

However, despite teaching being a poor paying job and one where there is little chance of making a big break, there are ladies and chics who may temporarily absorb most of your cognitive resources because of their sheer beauty and attractiveness because we men are visual creatures and look for the slightest available mating opportunity for anything we see in skirt if we do not reign in on our carnal desires.

The reason I was so quick to change jobs was because I was finding it demoralizing seeing staff turnover increasing each day. The working conditions were however improving. My major bone of contention was that being a single dude, I would have been caught up in a quandary. What with the hot chics- thank goodness I never ate the forbidden fruit. Again, there was liquor. Cheap liquor that would have made me addicted for nothing yet I was trying to avoid the bad habit of drinking 2^nd generation spirits. To make matters worse, I was struggling a lot. Sometimes teaching that which I could because students were there and someone had to teach because there is rarely any specialization in most middle level commercial colleges. But I gave my best. That I am sure about.

Looking forward, I know I could have had one year experience by now had I stuck to one job. But I am zetetic. I need to know where possible that which I can in my quest for knowledge. Reason why I never limit my potential. My brain is only being in use at ten percent. Why can’t I just stretch it a little bit to a figure like 20%. My quest for knowledge is usually very amorphous. When this job opened up to me, it was an opportunity long awaited.

Having previously read on one of the daily newspaper about some career advice that in the current world, what comes your way should be taken with open arms, I took this job solely because I wanted to also be either a part of the success or failure of a growing company. It has not disappointed so far. In future when I will have the opportunity to practice that which I did in campus. I will give it a shot. As at now, money is a driving force. And it should be because we need to pay bills. Anyone who does not work for money is philanthropic and well into charity which is something I usually am passionate about.

However, if you read my previous posts, you may well be shocked that I did lament about the lack of jobs in the country. There are jobs. The only folly is that the HR department sometimes wants experienced individuals. There is also too much pushing and connections in the job industry.

Some people again never want to alert their mates of potential jobs because they think the salary is too little the chap may work for a few days before calling it quits and putting the credibility of the person pushing for the mate to get a job in doubt. This may be due to the pay most employers give because it may make one to shy away if one makes an analysis of the expenses and the income which may only mean one runs into more debts after receiving a salary.

What I have however noted is that patience pays when working for organizations. Those who are patient enough usually reap the fruits that are varied. The organization may grow and your salary may increase or the terms and conditions may be revised. As I sit penning this down, I am still looking for greener pastures. I am not going to restrict myself to something that will not guarantee me the kind of life I want. If the BIG BREAK comes early on, well and good.

As at now, let me chill in my current job hoping things will get rosy after the probation period ends.

HASTA LA VISTA BABY

[Photo source: My own]

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SICKNESS, WEIGHT

It has been long since I used a private car. Am even feeling envious of those who use such while I have to be content with this matatu lifestyle.

Over the week, I got so sick in the middle of the night due to the July weather and thought I could not make it to class. Thank goodness gracious, I am now able to even write. There was this Tuesday night I woke up shivering and I felt a piercing feeling on my legs when I stepped on the tiled floor.

That was the point I felt I was indeed putting too much on a job I had no real surety would have mutated into a pensionable and paying at the end of each month.

[TO BE CONTINUED] 

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MORINGA BASE

The filthy washrooms are steeped in mold and dirt and the stench emanating from the overused facility makes you feel like wrenching even though you try to keep sane in a squeamish environment that robs you of every little dignity you thought you hard. The nark in you could not withstand noticing that the toilet had no door and the walls were smudged with human excreta.

Flies could be seen hovering over a half-full cup before panning across to dirty floors moist due to moping taking place because it is the rainy season. The two cubicles available were locked, the urinary is unbearably stinking— generally it is an atmosphere which forces one to opt out. On top of the counter are benches which are used for those who turn up at night for keg sipping.

That is one of the pubs found in this lane that is also the home to a number of low income individuals who congregate here to quench their thirst for ale. We call the drinks chang'aa with my pal Alex, a lawyer whose prospects of turning into an advocate are in doubt because of matter finances him being a pessimist with regard to making money to aid him in contriving over the set back. However, since he is still contemplating on his next move, who knows?

Only folivores partake of leaves. And I am not one. Moringa base is place to find your favourite mogoka. If you are a guy who chews moringa or in local parlance 'mogoka' then you probably know where this filthy lane in Nairobi is found. It has many businesses and you are sure to find anything here. Even a random whore is just a call away.

Ideally, I don’t remember the name of the street or is it lane. If anything, it is one of those lanes that have been turned into hotspots for ale downing when it dawns by the ever liquor seeking peons and blue collar proletariats who compromise on hygiene and sanitation in lieu of spending an extra dime in the more ritzy pubs are as realistic as the fact as they need to go to rehab (not me though). Since most drink on the cold laden street, they also urinate on the drainages which are not covered at night. (Presumption because I have never been there at night)

Moringa base (Moringa are leaves that keep one sane to be able to talk for long) is Juen’s beloved hang out open air joint. As a matter of fact, I had been to Moringa sometime more than three years ago. Then, there was a place we used to go watch football and also the place offers an avenue for cancer stick chaps who cannot find a smoking zone demarcated for them in downtown Nairobi.

Juen said that a reddish type of mogoka is good for men's libido which prompted a colleague to ask a fellow unattached female colleague if she was going to act as the guinea pig to verify if Juen’s hypothesis as he claimed was true. That is, if you use the said mogoka, you go three hours non-stop with a lady until that point when the lady being screwed says she needs time to rest or runs out of fluid. (That is an unproved hypothetical theory though. There is also the hypothesis of busaa having the same powers.)

Juen is a renowned figure in this place (Moringa base) because he also does business when free. He tells me he doubles up as a mogoka seller when things are not looking rosy in matters finances. He tells me if he vies for MCA, he will be elected unopposed.

“Mi najulikana na watu wengi sana huku.”

He tells me in his characteristic reprimanding loud voice that makes him mortifying if it is your first time to meet him because his facial expression also complements his words before he breaks into a smile that eases the tension. And true to his statement his network of friends, associates and acquaintances perplexes me because he barely walks five steps before colliding with someone he knows. Guess they are shags buddies because this is also the place he boards matatus to his father’s place.

Most of the chaps he interacts with are high on the substance or are selling it outside shops that condone them. Hustling their way out in Nairobi to make ends meet. These chaps have bloodshot red eyes you would think they are what Abbas Kubaff calls in his music, ‘Jicho nyanya.’ God knows that they are also anorexic. Their gaunt faces and paled skin complexion as a result of overuse makes them look like thugs who are synonymous to hardcore crime on the Eastern side of Tom Mboya Street.

Juen also operates a mogoka selling cube which I have never seen though he proclaims to own one. Faecal waste are found on the trenches that are on this lane with score of other garbage. I donno how I survived but I was on a mission to find out something. There was a place where cheap food was being sold but it is now under construction. I had to struggle eating chapo madondo.  The waiters were ladies you feel like they serve you under duress. But they were yellow yellow.

That reminds me that there was this butchery cum pub we went for some boilo because when you buy boilo, you are brought the meat in whole.  Not like when you buy nyama chom or fried beef and some parts are missing because a waiter saw it fit to deprive you off your meat.

One of Juen’s lady students joined us for the meal it being end month and he was feeling papers. Actually I don’t remember her name. For real, but I remember she was one chic who albeit seemed to have standards, she was unwilling to make it to Moringa base. The meat was more than one kilo and we were going to water it down with some illicit second generation liquor I refused to taste because I was not ready to go blind or kick the bucket soon since the contents are not KEBSIFIED. I resorted to my Tusker malt brand which is more trustable.

It was the time when a crackdown on all wines and spirits had been taken a notch higher and it was hard finding a place where you can buy ‘chang’aa’. But Juen said he found them ‘chini ya maji’  because black market is real in downtown Nairobi. Even the police who are supposed to be enforcing the law sometimes find themselves among those caught up in the melee of indulging in illicit.

As a Jameson and Johnny Walker chap (I have been doing these because of where I stay and the people I interact with), I must admit that these cheap liquor have counter effects because they make one a slave due to the cheap amount they are being procured. They also have a nasty smell and you meet people who have lost hope in life taking them.

I did chat the student, let me call her Vera. And guess what, she was also my student. Yes, Vera was among those who stood out because her adiposity clearly distinguished her from her petite and lean mates who were also maybe from teenage rampage. She initially rescinded coming to where we were because she never knew who she was going to find. Think she was flabbergasted to see me.

She was going to sit an exam that evening and wanted me to tell her the probable questions which I had no idea of. Clearly, she is not young, I could tell that her age was ripe judging by her built stature. She knew what she wanted and had had her fair share of frustrations and inadequacies in life. She was well and aptly dressed and we did chat about mundane stuff.

This led us to the recent survey that portrayed Kenyan men as the most faithful. She was of the contrary opine which made me ask her which men are not faithful. She told me that I should rephrase the survey of Kenyan men being the most faithful in Africa to being not faithful.

This prompted me to ask her about which tribe she considered not having faithful men. She started by saying the Kisii are the most unfaithful closely followed by the Meru. I told her to substantiate but she could not but intimated to something to do with matoke. She also said Luos are very faithful as long as you give him what he wants and know how to make a lady feel loved and tendered. But Kuyos are the worse than kisiis or merus. They may have as many as ten women in different places and if you have an altercation with one, he pretends he has gone to meet his boys for a drink but in reality, he is with his mpango wa kando.

I must say this are not the kind of places I can take a lady. It reeked of insolence and penury, not a classy place I prefer going to give a lady the impression that I am man enough. The street is too banal and there is a high likelihood it is teeming with peddlers and hobos who are quite frequent. The sorry state is due to insecurity but as a person who is being brought to get a new experience, I had to oblige.

Moringa Base has deteriorated in standards and no matter the measures put in place to curb the eyesore that it has become; it still becomes the murky and sordid place that it continues to be. The ‘Kanjo’ once in a while pass by the place like when I was there to collect their dues especially now that there are some businesses that have no licenses.

On the given day, the owner of the kiosk being frisked was outside doing business. He is a certain bearded Rasta with a turban on his head. Juen told me he makes a lot of cash because he has vested interest in matters dealing with mogoka and mirra.

On my way out of Moringa base, I met one Anto, an advocate in the making who was a former pal in high-school and campus mate though he was in Parky while I was a main campus boda (buda). He was in Moringa buying cigarettes for someone I was not aware of. I was just wondering how one could be able to buy a workmate cigarettes while he never partook them. Worse is, he knew where they are sold.

We exchanged phone numbers because I had left Juen with Vera to have some me time because I thought she was feeling my loose vibes and could have been swayed to change allegiance. That was not something I was aiming at. I was almost sandwiched between two Githurai buses one moving at a very high speed while the other in stationary motion. I saw kissed death but vowed never to pass next to these vehicles. This was a lesson learnt and that is why I should be having class and standards. Death may appear far but just like that you may find yourself going to meet the creator through the idiocy of someone eager to make money at the expense of taking into account human life which keeps him in business.

HASTA  LA VISTA BABY.

[Picture source: Google Images]

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EXAMS

Have you ever spared a thought on the plight of teachers during this busy period that is quite moping which entails being clobbered with these dreaded invigilation duties. Ideally, even pros get pococurante and need to ease up because two hours or more is not a joke. It’s our job to act as invigilators for these exams as teachers.  As an invigilator you must keep vigil which you find yourself not capable of continuously instead invigilators must be busy patrolling, on the lookout for any crib-sheets hidden away. 

After ten minutes, you feel that hour will never end, for sure its galling. You’ve counted the number of left-handers in the room (not many though), checked out all the latest Kenyan chics fashions in footwear and in dressing and hairstyle but again, that never lasts. Again, you sometimes find yourself checking on that ka supu student who caught your eye, however, concentration on her fully isnot easy.

What to do? Well, requests for extra paper are one welcome way of alleviating the tedium or breaking away from building castles in the air of some uncouth thoughts in the mind. I’ve seen teachers rush to be the first to hand out more paper when the hands go up, you can imagine they are excited kids. Anything that breaks the monotony. 

But that’s out of the question. What with cheating such a constant concern (I read many posts on the topic, “The most elaborate ways to cheat in your exams” but still never nabbed a student cheating. Say I am not hawkish), invigilators are under fierce instructions to be “on the lookout for illegal practice at all times"

Obviously, you can never stay too long in the exam room without thinking something sinister. Ideally, nabbing a student on the act is a skill that you need to have horned or knew in the event you engaged in the same. However, it may not be easy. It is all has to do with guesswork.

A real bonus and blessing is when a candidate needs the loo. This means someone has to accompany them (in case it’s a ruse to cheat). That, in turn, means you can escape into the fresh air for a precious few minutes.

But the real menace is when a phone rings, those that are cacophonous and break the virgin silence of papers chuckling and the thought process of those ruminating of the best plausible answers which unfortunately may be wrong. This is also a leeway that aids in escaping from the exam doldrums that are quite real as an invigilator.

Worst of all, is when you’re left totally stranded in the exam hall. It’s happened to me once or twice, when invigilating on my own and is an awful feeling. No one cares, no one comes. You’ve been totally forgotten: left until the exam ends. And you are required to stand watching over students as if they are some delinquents under incarceration, you being a warder only that this time, you either have to be on Facebook or whatsapp or  create a spurious call for which you can evade the humdrum of standing in isolation because your can't engage in any form of banter.

Such times, you need to create an activity, and if possible, your phone acts like the notepad to note those students who are laughing at flies, those who are so blank they cannot pen anything because their minds have refused the task of easing their future life by passing exams.

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JALUO OKSECHI

Sometimes I usually try to kill a mosquito and it flies away acrobatically and I am left clapping on imaginary creatures. It's undoubtedly piquing when it has just sucked the hell out of your blood leaving you feeling like scratching the region after it has drunk to its fill. The downside in the case of mosquito bites is that this triggers an inflammatory response causing the bite region to swell into a nice protruding bump on the skin.  

So why does scratching the mosquito bite make it worse?  Because this irritates and inflames the area even more, resulting in your immune system kicking into overdrive to try to get rid of the foreign substance.  So this means more inflammation for you, resulting in an escalating swelling, itchy bump that just won’t go away.

Jaluo oksechi, A luo never pleads. There are those times you usually feel like the world is not heading in the direction that you wanted. You feel so low to a point you want to get out of your skin and let the earth split open and swallow you alive. Frustrations take the better of you and you develop antagonistic and withdrawal symptoms. Albeit, to make it into that place you envisioned takes time. It involves sacrifices, you need to constantly reflect on the progress you are making if valid or you are just getting fagged.

The first time I saw the inscription Jaluo oksechi,  I was not aware of the significance of the term till that point where I had internalized it. The words were engraved on the t-shirt of a certain lady who I met in one of the many social places in Nairobi. She was adorned in tight green pants that aptly signified she was a 'Gor Mahia'  fan. The mix and match of a white t-shirt and green pants never betrayed her.

“Nyako ber gi toke.”

Wacha nikusho. This was the kind of lady who had a fuller bust heavily supported by a camera bra and a heavily protruding derriere that only Saartjie Baartman could rival. The kind that makes all men turn to take a glimpse at what her mama gave her. It looked like her booty was kissing the pants and her hips tightly hugging it from the sides. Her thick thighs gyrated seductively while strutting you surely had to ogle if a lover of BBW. I was tempted, tempted to touch. To quench my thirst for her fundamendos. She was not exquisitely pretty. Just average with heavy make-up on her face and a River-Road like wig or weave that kind of made her look like a Jezebel. This is what you call a high maintenance chic. Cheap but very expensive. And volatile like a nuclear weapon.

Trust me, Luo joints with buggers in their thirties to fifties are a hell full of boredom. That is for the average bloke. Soft rhumba music accompanied by a live band rents the air to assuage the aged patrons. Probably a musician like Johnny Junior or Emma Jalamo will be on stage. Singing about some lady, as his languid dancers who are rumored to be his clandes shake it nice and slow awaiting for the climax of the song to twerk it real hard. There is no doubt that most are under ART. Kuome kata ondilo. But they have embraced it. You never know they are living positively. Until someone tells you they are. They however live recklessly. If their lifestyle is anything to go by.

Obviously, you will not fail to see some mature ladies imbibing Guinness Kubwa as the men accompanying them take Smirnoff Ice. But the crowd loves Tusker baridi. You will find a burly fella with equally voluptuous damsels who are obviously gold-digging in a corner where ‘mesa otho rateng’. There are times they will kiss and dance to the tune each lady trying to grab the attention of the man bankrolling them out. Probably, a bottle of Jameson or a common whisky is on the table. He also has his ‘star’ keys tightly clutched that he has to use when calling the waiter. A brand loyal who has no house in the rurals. 

Then some hot ladies are scantily dressed whose aim is to ‘pita na’ an inebriated chap. Their miniskirts are way too revealing. Yellow faces, pouty red lips,  darkened fingers and legs,  boobs that struggle for attention with a cleavage that almost bares it all and big tushes that are probably stuffed or hardened with silicon or gikmakamago. Some have shaved like pugilist Mohamed Ali in his heydays. They sip a single Schweppes or Snapp for long obviously looking at their prey eyes set for incentives after engaging in the devil’s dance.

There are plenty of rascals also. Either they have accompanied a person who sponsors them or just wants to ‘yuo thing’ as one musician sang ‘Tho Luro’. A middle aged man dazzles as he cavorts in styles that captures one’s attention. ‘Oketo long ei third floor’.

You notice the way he twirls his belt in slow motion as he convolutes himself to the rhythm. Then there is a way he makes certain faces that make you think he is going to do something queer then retorts into a meek position much to the applause of revelers. He takes the stage where the resident musician is doing his thing.

You see, Luo musicians never fail to hurl invectives once in a while as they sing. Plus, they throw in the names of people present who depart with big sums of money as they listen to their names being sung to all and sundry.

In the gents there is this guy who intimates, ‘Omera wuon bar ni yuto! Ineno kaka chwo ng’eny e choo ka to lare ka dhako momonj.’

Surely, you can never beat a River-lake Nilotic speaker when it comes to getting his act right in matters of having a good time after a week full of pressure and meeting deadlines.

Lakini, Jaluo Oksechga. And I have to also go by that mantra, Okabisecho.

Till next time.

Hasta La Vista, Baby.

[Picture Source: Google Images]

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FUTURE CAR: MASERATI

So my future car is a Maserati. Damn, this car is ill. Its aesthetic values, the curve, its sleek and smooth, has a an old school feel and am just week.

Ever since I played the sharefun stuff on facebook, I have been having this premonition that the prediction may just come out true. I will marry after 30, have two kids and die probably at 80. Ten years past the normal bible age limit is enough for a wild hog like me.

[to be continued]

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LOVES, CRAVINGS AND LIFE

I was scheduled to wake up at 0300hrs but did post-pond the early rising because that would have instinctively meant I slept only for four hours. Kwani I am a professor just on the brink of discovery or placing the final touches on an important theory still hypothetical, or a businessman who is set to secure a tender worth millions of dollars and has to burn the midnight oil or resurrect formulating the presentation or thinking hard in order not to miss the bait. Hell no, I am a mere teacher. So I added two more hours on my sleep and the alarm ensured I was astir after those six hours in bed.

Just realized I sleep a lot in mats while javing. Sometimes the mat conductor has to pat me in order to request for fare or the person next to me does the same to alert that I need to take back my change. I have a couple of times woke up forgetting my hard earned change with the conductor and every other time I hurriedly alight the car, I usually blame myself because of sleep.

Reading is a pastime that sometimes makes me forget the task at hand, thank goodness, teaching is kind of flexible, you need not ensure you are inhibited by the time factor which means you are strictly required to be in the job by 0800hrs. Also, you exit at your preference as long as you have done your duties of contributing to building a nation. But most of the time, I ensure I arrive early, just to pay less for fare and also to work on projects.

I wish reading too much stuff whether relevant or irrelevant would not occupy the better part of my time, again I am a coward in trying to get out of the tendency. Somehow, I need to muster some aspects of being a stickler. At present, I have danganyad myself that I will be reading this book on investments one hour every day or covering 30 pages a day within the next one month. Pole Brother, I am still stuck on the page I left reading the book, never mind that it is now almost a week since I committed to reading this book. I have placed a temporary bung on my reading cask. Someone help me out (shouting).

But I love reading, and art and music and what else, women, maybe yes. This reclusive solitude without that someone nago kill me ooooo (weka 9JA accent there). But am waiting for, 'God's time' which I don't know when it will, but either way, it is still the best time.

I still have eleven mutes to go to finish this. In the event I will not have done that which I am to achieve, I will sing that song of

Why worry, when you can pray?
Trust Jesus, He’ll be your stay.
Don’t be a doubting Thomas,
Rest fully on His promise,
Why worry, worry, worry, worry when you can pray? 

Since time is the setback now, like I used to have a lot of time for myself when I finished school and started blogging. But as I am juggling the jigsaw of life, let me not use parenthesis to annul to what I am trying to drive home. 

I wish I will still be able to sit down and write even when I become financially liquid (which is the reason why many cease writing). Or will I be contented to that point where I will find it unnecessary to pen out my luxuries now that I well be living a dear life full of avalanche (read material wealth).

Instinctively, I am now realizing the importance of time, if you never plan it, you will loose more of it. Time is money.

AND ON THAT NOTE I AM GOING TO END THIS DUCTILE VOYEUR.

[Photo Source: I don’t remember]

HASTA LA VISTA BABY

Why worry, when you can pray?
Trust Jesus, He’ll be your stay.
Don’t be a doubting Thomas,
Rest fully on His promise,
Why worry, worry, worry, worry when you can pray? - See more at: http://helpformylife.org/2011/06/29/why-pray-when-you-can-worry/#sthash.7b1yEThY.dpuf

Why worry, when you can pray?
Trust Jesus, He’ll be your stay.
Don’t be a doubting Thomas,
Rest fully on His promise,
Why worry, worry, worry, worry when you can pray? - See more at: http://helpformylife.org/2011/06/29/why-pray-when-you-can-worry/#sthash.7b1yEThY.dpuf

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