In the next a couple of weeks I will be moving this diary to a self hosted platform, and being me, I will be doing a lot of tinkering here and there since I do not plan having a professional help with it or rather I don’t want to pay for it, I’m cheap like that :-D. In the mean time I will find how to move a blog for dummies and find my way around the new host. If you find missing stuff or misplaced stuff do let me know :-).
To a hopefully bigger better house ey? Lets hope so 🙂
This will undoubtedly be the book I took longest to ever finish. Almost two years to be exact. Then again you cannot read poetry like you read prose, you need each poem to sink in, bed time is a good time or early morning. I prefer reading in the morning in the evening I tend to zone out quickly and start dozing.
So the book, yes, I have a couple of posts excerpts derived from it, here and here.
The pain and joy of being, it brings to mind two conflicting notions in your head like the yin and yang. But isn’t life so? A wandering journey through many unlike and unexpected things?
Elizabeth an art professor at Kenyatta University has a simple way of bringing across the message. Which makes the reading all the more enjoyable, yes there is the literal and figurative messages, but even with those ones you don’t need to knock your head as you try to crack the message.
Elizabeth talks about Love, Affairs, Loving the unavailable one, Heartbreaks, Nature, Africa, Motherhood, Womanhood. I think I loved the book all the more because I find it easy to identify with the themes brought in the book, well except womanhood haha (but you don’t have to be something to identify with it ey).
When I say I identify here is a verse in the pursuing the unavailable person No You have turned meInto a beggar of emotionsBegging for your timeBegging for your loveUnreciprocated time after time If you have been in such a situation like I have, you read that verse and think, “damn Elizabeth do you read peoples lives?”. I will bet you if you get a copy you will find so many “that is me” situations throughout the book.
The book is available on the university of Nairobi bookshop UNES. I could not find a copy on either bookpoint or textbook centre. It will prove a good leisure read if you do love poetry and the way it paints the world in words. See what I did there :roll:.
I am looking for this book at text book centre. The manager after looking for it in his data base he searches for it on amazon and tells me that they do not stock books with soft copy versions out already. After he recommends two other titles which I am not too keen on because I only wanted that particular book he changes tact and shows us these must read books which they have on sale. I am so intrigued I buy it without any hesitation.
The trailer you see up there is derived from a real life story of one of the greatest crooks in history Frank Abagnale.
As I read this book on my daily commute to and fro work, one thing hits me. Con men are probably some of the smartest brains around, just that they are not ready to work a sweat.
The book will enable you to have a peek of these confidence tricksters and how they work. It may come in handy avoiding them or becoming like one of them!
Get your copy at any text book centre at KES 200 and tell me what you think.
I am looking for this book at text book centre. The manager after looking for it in his data base he searches for it on amazon and tells me that they do not stock books with soft copy versions out already. After he recommends two other titles which I am not too keen on because I only wanted that particular book he changes tact and shows us these must read books which they have on sale. I am so intrigued I buy it without any hesitation.
The trailer you see up there is derived from a real life story of one of the greatest crooks in history Frank Abagnale.
As I read this book on my daily commute to and fro work, one thing hits me. Cons are probably some of the smartest brains around, just that they are not ready to work a sweat.
The book will enable you to have a peek of these confidence tricksters and how they work. It may come in handy avoiding them or becoming like one of them!
Get your copy at any text book centre at KES 200 and tell me what you think.
It is Sunday morning. 4.00am to be exact. I am in that alcohol sleep. You know that one where you want your head to clear it up. I hear a touch on my pockets… No let me take it from the beginning.
It is Saturday
I have four groups of people I have to meet today
The first one is official business that means I will keep time for the rest of them no African timing. The other three are my best friends (you know those people who will be able to listen to your eulogy and say yup that’s him, nope you really didn’t know him that well, oh that is his alter ego! Yes those ones!) but due to work we are always talking through this digital realm…
The gods of Nairobi traffic are smiling today, my estimated time to get to the first meeting is the actual time I take. Everyday should be like this horses and wishes
The meeting ends well and I’m on my way for the other meet ups. These are people I haven’t seen from a month up to three years, since rescheduling always means that month could easily turn to another or even another three years I’m taking all of them. I need to show off my new lean self too. Now these were the real African timers, but were are not talking about that today, my patience seems to have considerably improved if I never called to hurry them, well except for Kash, the most slippery when it comes to meetings. And yes, you guessed right all of them had a mention of food, you know me and free food.
The first one to call is Henry, my partner in crime from campus. A man never forgets the guy who took him to a strip club, nobody speaks about it ever again but I am. I will get skinned or worse lose out on more fun activities, don’t do that Henry. Okay I deviate. So it is his lunch break and he calls to say we will have to do with one hour only. I’m okay I know 60 minutes is not enough to catch up but hey, who is complaining? Not me. Willy joins but he is uneasy like a guy with ants in his pants. Who is Willy you ask? I will tell you. He is my cousin, another partner in crime. His phone is buzzing every minute “clients this, clients that” I ask him if his clients don’t know that a man must as well fuel. The one hour swooshes by and that becomes that Henry has a house party to attend after work and its out-of-town.
Kev calls and says he is on his way to town so is Joy. Now I’m thinking if I try to see one and leave the other it may never happen soon. So if they come I’m going to get them acquainted. I know I know, I haven’t told you who these two are. Let me start with Joy, I got to know her through excursions. There was this group where most of my friends would go meet, but I would only show during trips and excursions. She was the outspoken one, I was the quiet one. Now if you ask any of them they will tell you I’m a loudmouth of late selectively though. Kev, well Kev we go way back I cannot write about it without needing a post on its own, so is Kash. Those two are the only childhood friends who have stuck though to adulthood. Basically people who have you through it all and keep seeing you through some more still…
Where was I? Oh Kev and Joy arrive at the same time. It starts with coffee doesn’t it all? Then at 8.00pm, “why don’t we try this other place, because I cannot have anymore of this”? And as if everyone was waiting for that they jump on the suggestion.
Kash the ever late one arrives at 8.30pm and he was to be in town at 7.30pm. I won’t dwell on that he arrived that’s what is important. The stories just never seem to end as we make fun of Kash he is the easy one to make fun of hehe.
11.30pm Joy decides she’s good after a couple of glasses of white sweet wine. Kash being a teetotaler also takes the opportunity to escape. We see them off and Kev suggests we have one last more bottle, his cousins have threatened to fine him if he doesn’t pass by and see them. This new place is full. The music is dance music and I’m drunk. So I do not have the inhibitions to tell me I have a stiff waist and two left feet. I wake up and dance, I can see eyes following, maybe they dig my moves. The one of Kev’s cousins who has been in every corner of this club comes back for a ‘top up’. This guy can pull moves, he comes and tells me “I am giving you permission to dance with any lady you want in here, yes I have. Go right ahead, why are you dancing solo?”
Joy calls to say she got home safely, I tell her we are having a beer then head home.
So I go to this girl and ask her for a dance, she says no. I go back to dancing solo, today I’m not in the mood to deal with rejections I’m happy and sensitive. Kev comes and tells me I can dance with a girl he is dancing with, but no, not today. Let me pull those moves I saw in those dance workout videos. Wait. That maybe the problem, I am dancing like I’m fighting maybe that is what scared the ladies. You know work out videos are pretty intense arms and legs being thrown everywhere. I even saw the bouncers look at me like “are those martial arts dance moves or what?” Every time I sit to finish my beer I find two more have been added. Someone doesn’t want me leaving clearly, I’m way past my threshold you know that time you start singing that Semisonic’s closing time. But that is not happening today.
3.00am we decide it’s time to go home. I find the buses to my home are carrying passengers and tell Kev I’m using that, public transport to my neighborhood ends at 11pm. So why not try it ey? He wants me to use a cab or we go crash at his place then I can go home later. After convincing him I’m good they make sure I board and tell the conductor to make sure I alight at my stage haha. The bus is full of other drunks. So it is a no judgment zone. I pay my fare and sleep starts seducing me….
It is Sunday morning. 4.00am to be exact. I am in that alcohol sleep. You know that one where you want your head to clear it up. I hear a touch on my pockets. I jerk from my sleep.This guy is seated next to me and he wasn’t there 5 minutes ago. He appears shocked when I wake up. I give him a long hard stare and clench my fists. “Should I hit him, should I hit him not?” I darned well felt the touch on my pocket. He is busy looking away drinking his water. We are only two of us there I cannot even ask if anyone else saw. The bus stops and I begin to alight after confirming my things are with me. Then he follows and stops like in deep thought. The conductor is busy screaming “AB ni hapa unashuka ama hushuki”?
I am eagerly waiting for him, if he is alone I will just punch him and go my way.
He alights and goes to stand near other two guys. I weigh my options and decide I have taken eight beers and three shots of Jamie (yes I know I didn’t mention the brand of the beer but this one I did, and no they haven’t paid me to advertise), I cannot tackle these in case they are together. I mark his face and board a motorcycle. When the motorcycle guy greets me good morning is when it hits me to check the time! Its 4.04am! I haven’t drunk like this since my campus days. I am even nodding my head during the ride despite the cold. Maybe I was stiff drunk. I get to the house and call Kev he is also getting to his house, I tell him of the pocket and he reminds me that he lost his phone same fashion being too drunk. I decide maybe it is a good idea to be calling Kama. Even if I sleep he will wake me when I get home safely, though his stories keep me awake through the journey most times.
Later I wonder, should I have punched him without hesitation? Should I have told the conductor we gang up against him (this particular bus company does not carry pick pockets, I have seen guys being told they won’t be carried and later we are told they are pick pockets). Or even have him on their black list. The what ifs are many.
PS: This post’s flow draws a lot from my mom. She starts a story on a particular topic and then takes you back from the beginning with lots of deviations before giving you the final scoop at the end. Patience being not one of my strongest virtues, I would try cutting her short but she would be adamant. I would listen while busting inside, but with time I learned to stop worrying about the topic and enjoy the many deviations along the way. Maybe it was an indirect way of teaching me patience and how to listen. And I am now giving stories the same way, the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree does it?
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