Crazy Office Chic

A couple of weeks ago the idea emerged for a party at one of the Introvert's new abode.
It was decided not to invite the 'usual' girlfriends/ladyfriends/women/females.
Each of the introverts was charged with inviting someone they'd had their eye on, or someone totally new. The logic to this (supplied by one of the resident doctors, the wise man that he is) is that if I bring someone another introvert knows, or more importantly, someone whom the other introvert's usual companion knows, then things get loused up. Mainly due to that abominable Women's Network.

Thus, it seemed like the perfect time to seek out the Office Chic. I should point out that the party was decided on before the resident doctor added the conditions to the party. I had at this point already pointed out the possibility of a party to one Coconut. So when the new requirements were stated, I had to find a way to get the Coconut out. Anyways, I simply informed her that the party has been moved to March, and now that I won't know her in March, it really doesn't matter.

Office Chic. Brown skin. Nice walk (a woman's walk says alot about her - as a man's walk I guess). I think people practice different walks. Does that happen subconsciously or are guys very aware that they are walking a certain way? Another story I think. Young. Just cleared campus, that should put her at 24. Thats a nice young. Unlike 20yr olds who have just tormented me for some time now. Petite. I think I can use that word. Not thin. No no no. Not even close to large. Petite. Last time I held someone petite I was in campus.

So I bide my time and then just come out with it when no one else is around. "What you up to on ?", Nothing, she says. "There's a small party at . You're invited."
Ok, forget the narration. So she accepts the invite and all is well.

Now, I've been having second thoughts. She still looks good. Nothing changed there. Although she did get the measles at some point last month and I'm not sure if I ever did as a kid.
Problem is, I can never make out what she says. She is constantly talking. And whatever she says doesn't make sense to me, when I can make out whatever it is she says. She doesn't enunciate. She's one of those guys fueling the rumor mill on the ongoing nonsense in Kenya. This MP said this, the army guys will do this, cops are doing this, mungiki this, luos this, kisiis that...bla bla bla crap. I know I only have to stand that crap for one day while I try something on the party day. Still, I'm very uncomfortable. Maybe I can get her high and she'll stop talking crap. There's times she just comes to my desk, picks up stuff I'm working on, doesn't say much, looks at the stuff and then bails. I know I should have a plethora of one liners to keep her talking, but that's not the point. The point is she's crazy. You can't just stop me as I'm walking to say hi when its about 2pm. I said hi in the morning. Nuts. I have a bad feeling about this if I try any moves during the party. Too late to get out of it?

What am I talking about? It'll be fun I'm sure. Just getting nervous about asking a new chic to do the nasty with me. Always puts me on edge. Alcohol will help. I'm just jittery. What a wimp. Nothing wrong with the nice lady.Nice petite lady.

Green eyed monsters

It's terribly unfortunate. Perhaps it's the price to pay. Part of the price anyway. There are a bunch of other costs.

I've seen it like 3 times in the last couple of weekends weekends. The first of these, I was busy minding my own busines on the dance floor. Yeah. That one. I mostly dance alone these days. It's hard to let yourself go when you're trying to have synchronized movements, and having the presence of mind to keep your knees from knocking hers. Anyway. Out of the blue [tempted to use that from left field phrase again] comes some chic. Ok. The least I can do is oblige, and groove along. For some reason I'm not too enthused today so it's just kushoto, kulia, kushoto, kulia and stop. Out of nowhere [actually they were coming from the right side. I must have a blind spot there] a guy's outstretched hard swings at the chic and smacks her on the side of the face. She's thrown clear 2 metres. One more lunge on her way down just to make sure. She lies there motionless for a while. I'm motionless as well. The guys makes it back to where he was seated as bouncers come over and some of the chic's pals come to help her up.

Another sato. Nobody was rendered unconscious this time. Just eyes burning with rage as the collapsing chic got her groove on with any which guy who happened to be near her. Bumping and grinding. If looks could kill...

Yet another sato. Back at the club. Doing more of that minding my own business thing. What do you know. This one didn't come out of left field. Not way out anyway. A bit more of that swaying from side to side stuff. She must be really enjoying the music because she's all smiles. I'm wary though of that arm that comes from the blind side. She was dancing with some guy[s] earlier. So we keep it PG13. I lean in and introduce myself. She asks what tribe I am. Can't believe people are still doing that kind of thing. I leave that to her imagination. At some point she goes over to the DJ's box. Apparently after he'd called her over several times. It's too loud to hear but the body language is loud enough. Something about "hasta la vista, baby". She returns. I ask about the apparent boyfriend. I don't mean to cause any trouble. No response, just shakes of the head. Shortly and she's gone again. For good this time. I hope they made up.

It must be a hard thing, when you are hooked up with someone, and you see her talking or <insert other verb here> with another bloke. And there always will be some bloke, unless you lock her up in your house or something. Probably as innocent as ever. Why then would one get all worked up about it. Is it some involuntary emotion one has. It's why I'm apprehensive every time I text the married chic. [she sent me a text the other day after a long, long time. out of the blue] It's not paranoia when they could be after you. The way I figure it though, if you're with a chic and she seems to having the time of her life with some guy, you just take a long gulp at your drink. If she goes out of her way, and probably digs the guy, you move on, to the chic at the next table. If she really fancies the guy, she can have him. No need to get all worked up. Last time I heard, women were [apparently] outnumbering men. Sure, I saw shades of green last time I was on a date, but there's no point getting overly worked up. It's not a good side-effect of liking someone.

Still To Come

Been a while since I used this forum. Plenty of info pending.
Still to come...
The Melon Sisters
Coastal Kamikaze
Crazy Office Chic
Don't You Just Love SupaStrikas (the comic with Shakes Makena).

Ok, the last one won't be a post. Have to let it out! Don't you just love it? I think that some guys pretend too hard to appear grown up. Grown up is more than what people think of you. Its what you think of yourself. If you feel comfortable reading comic strips, good for you. Some guy saw me at the office reading the comic in the office and started laughing incredulously. The guy is like 4 years younger than me. I didn't see anything funny about it and proceeded to explain how this is the one and only comic made wonderfully locally. The drawing. The movement. You feel like you are actually playing football (any Americans reading this? Ok, well, soccer then) and the comic guys are using you to create Shakes Makena or any other character. He didn't bite. Unmoved. Punk.

More to come. Have to see if tao is safe for some drinking.

Break Up Time

Its that time of the year again. Soon anyways. Valentines Day.
Soon in the sense that it is too close for comfort.

That time of the year when guys can break up. I know what you are thinking. You thought you were the only one who does that eh? Breaks up just before Valentine. Most guys get back together after, around March or so. They lose their nerve. Get high and call her up. Don't worry, you won't be the first to crack.

Well, I'm looking to do it and keep my nerve. Time to let go of the Coconut.

Reason(s)? Apart from the fact that its almost Valentines Day?

Lets just list them. No particular order.

She doesn't know how to kiss. Clenches her teeth together. No tongue. A guy needs tongue. A guy needs to hear his own tongue say something in French (the essence of French kissing I premise).

On a very similar note (one that you should have seen miles away once I started on the Kissing thing), I don't get my knob shined. And when any attempt at shining is made, well, you can guess. Clenched teeth? Dude. The pain I have been through. Can't bear to think about it.

Then, she can't clean up. I don't like cleaning after myself. Hence I like to wait till sato when I can get those ladies in the esto to clean up, wash clothes and maybe fix a meal. How, pray tell, does it benefit me to have a woman who doesn't clean up when she's around? A pile of dirty utensils in the sink is studiously ignored.

She doesn't like cooking. Prefers to order in. And when she does cook, I can't bear to look at how much cooking oil she uses. I on the other hand cannot cook to save my life. Sure I can fry an egg, boil some water, make some spaghetti. Thus I'd prefer that someone who keeps saying she has to go back home to cook can throw something together for me before she bails, and not order, upon which I pay. I end up spending cash I could use to buy nyama fry at the local butcher (then cook some spags) for two weeks.

What else? Ah yes, the minor fact that she's not really into sex. I have to freaking beg for it. Been seeing this woman for a year and some. I have to freaking beg! I need a freak! Not to freaking beg!

I get at least 4 calls daily from the lady. She really has nothing to say, plus I'm in the office - working. Some of us like to put in some time at the office. Phone calls after every odd couple of hours disrupts that. Especially when there is nothing to be said.

Tumezoeana vibaya. Rather, amenizoea vibaya. Just not feeling it anymore.

Thus, it's break up time.
Happy Valentines Day.

This Sucks

I'm sitting at the office listening to the radio. Partially. Have some Kanye West playing on the comp, radio in the background.

Apparently I'm not supposed to go into tao. Some unrest. And just as the words are appearing on the screen I realise that I'm freaking lucky. I've still got a job. A place to stay. Cash to buy lunch. Relas are around (just can't get to see them, but they're around). And here I was about to complain that I can't go to tao and have a pint while watching some soccer.

Still sucks though.

Don't think

Thinking is dangerous. That's what one Dr. Muriuki [I think that was his name] said, as he gave out question papers for the CAT. It was incredibly hilarious considering it was an integral calculus class. The guy expected us to do integration by parts without thinking. Incredulous. I got something like 2.5 out of 40.

But. That concept, in the general scheme of things, is wonderfully powerful. So you may not do too well in calculus, but since you left campus who has asked you to prove that the limit of 1/x as x approaches 0 does not exist. I liked the concept when he said it then, and still fancy it now. If I used to follow my own advice... So I was googling "how to meet women" jana. [The Internet has all sorts of wonderful information] Apparently I have a week to meet someone. Anyone. Of the guys who don't tell you to refer to their books for those elusive secrets on how to get things done, there were a number of common themes. The foremost of these is confidence. Again, if only I'd be putting into practise stuff I believe in. It doesn't matter how you look, dress, talk or what you drive [necessarily]. Self-confidence is more powerful than all of these. So the rule is to approach a chic within 3 seconds of noticing her. The 3 second rule. Apparently this is how long the brain takes before it starts thinking. No wonder I get caught staring so many times. The brain is in a temporary state of suspense. I was nodding my head all along as I read, because I know it to be true. The times I've had most success, and fun, with meeting women is when I was doing things without thinking. I was also on mind altering substances but why split hairs. Once you falter, and start to think, the prospect becomes like an overpacked sack of potatoes. You look at it and wonder how on earth you are going to pull it off. Or how that guy is going to pull it off. And you strategize and fret. The more unlikely that you'll approach her the more time you take at this.

They also recommend practise. Lots of it. Approach any which woman, anywhere, and with time you'll get the hang of it. The underlying assumption being that you'll get rebuffed plenty of times but if it doesn't break you, it'll make you stronger.

There was a third thing, but I wasn't taking notes so I can't quite remember. The most important to remember though is not to think. It really is dangerous.

Why didn't you call last night

I'm sure there must be a song like that. Anyway. It caught me by surprise when she asked. Straight from left field as the Americans would say. North Americans that is. [I don't at all fancy baseball] South Americans would probably go with something like ay caramba! [I thought there was a post with that title]

"Huh?", I said back, all the while shaking my head. What kind of question is that, and how is a guy meant to answer it. "I was busy... washing my hair?". I couldn't think of a reason to give. I didn't think I needed to. Does a guy have to contact a chic every single day, else there is something wrong. I talk to the Introverts once a week. Sometimes. But they'd be the first set of people [after the folks at home] I'd tell if I was going in for surgery or something.

I thought days of chics waiting about for a guy to say something were over.

Checkers

Draughts.
Mchezo wa wazee.
A computer game has put all this into a whole new look.
This time you pick a chic to play with from a right menu.
The more beautiful she is the harder it is to beat the game.
Now the thing is.
Every time you beat her, she removes her brouse and so forth until she is all nude. standing there.
i am not so good in the game, so i never got to see it all for the most ugly of the 20 available.
I got a copy. Just in case u are interested.
It's the digital age.

Influence

Sometimes it's amazing how my comments to a chic can change the whole way she dresses.
There are some 2 chics we work with who entertain my crap that they look good in skirts.
For me it's food for the eyes. These 2 chics used to wear trousers everyday. These days they wear skirts 3 out of 5 working days.
I guess it's coz they only have so many.
Talk of influence.
One chic looks stunning when on skirts, but the other than has what a mean fellow would call arrow-root legs.
Ai bwana.

Performance Reviews and the 3 month lie circus

Did a review in dec? i am sure you feel me.
it start's on the HR's deadline date. Just like coding on last night of product delivery.
Only this time, no examples, samples and the like. You can't look at what your friend has done.
Lest you find out the guys grade and intuitively calculate the salary range. A guy you fully respect may not make quarter your take home. All respect could be reduced to sympathy.
You are on your own own, Mr Matejivu.
You have to justify that you are a team player. By giving more than three instances when you mentored someone. If you quote a guy, you may be suggesting to your boss the obvious vacuum in his/her skills level.
Be as specific as possible. That's tough.

That you saved the company millions with examples ain't the only thing you can't explain. there is invention and creativity, risks and procedures adherence. Blah blah blah.
You know its a pile of lies, but a necessary one.
Every 3 months.
I can't belive i will be doing this for the rest of my working live. but vat to do?
Someone actually leads my 20 page crap is a mystery. for thousands of employees.He can be used to read my vb/c++ code and add comments.
That would save money.

Little Matejivu and reality check

When i was young , i looked at myself as a changer of things.
to supply the missing link in a hurting world. An inventor.
That spirit however fake survived my teenage years and managed to kiss my early 20's. That was little matejivu.
As a programmer/coder, i always thought it easier to write a whole program than try
to understand someone else's code. And it worked in college. ya. a few forms i could code again. No problem
I tried carrying the same spirit into ERPs to great frustration.
That's when i realized that this is not america. No-one is watching out there for talent. There are no real big bucks.
I can be grounded. or am i already.
Gone are the days when i believed in the human spirit. being able to care, love and do justice.
helpless and disappointed i have recently been corrected.
I stopped being angry long ago, having discovered that my rage or opinion or zeal has no influence in this society.
Yet the little Matejivu still cries inside. Arousing my naivety and hope.
But then again as they'd say, there's no peace without justice. f*** little matejivu

Does it really

Does stayn solo make 1 hornia thn lonlia

Who now

I'm yet to figure it out. It's 2am on Wednesday night and I'm in bed. I'm in bed most all Wednesday nights but the reason I'm awake is I've just left the local pub. Kamikaze and 0.5 went on to another joint, and loads of half naked women. I need to check out that place.

So I'm deleting some text on an sms or reminder I was typing or something when a phone call comes through. I saw "Private Number" flash briefly on the screen before I hit the wrong key and prematurely ended the call. I waited for like 5 mins before touching the phone again, just incase another call came in and I unintentionally rejected it. It never came. Since then I've asked a couple of people if they were the culprits. I'd all but assumed it was a certain someone but when she confessed that it wasn't, I was at a loss. There's no conceivable reason Kamikaze or 0.5 wouldn't pull such a stunt. But who would know or chance that I was awake at 2am, and why would they hide their number. I'd have called back.

On a similar note, my small sis has mentioned being asked about her brothers. Perhaps it's the kind of thing chics ask of fellow chics. Normal kind of thing. Must be.

What do women want

The other day we were at one of the pubs in my neck of the woods. Probably was the day Kamikaze was taken ill. He wasn't there by the time one of the chics in the adjacent table was huko shaking what her mummy gave her.

I have seen these beyonce/hip-hop video chic impersonations before. There was a time parents were calling for the banning of channel O and MTV and the like. Anyway, what made this show somewhat different was the fact that she kept looking back at our table. She was standing facing away from us so it took greater than a 90 degree turn to make eye contact. And she kept at it. She was with some friends, chics and guys, so why did she keep looking at us. I kept asking what she wanted. Just that we admire. With mouth open if possible. I couldn't help but wonder what went through her mind to seemingly derive immense pleasure from exactly that. She probably already knows and has been told that she has a nice ass. Or does she need a weekly dose of the same.

Another day, different club. Bumped into some guy I was in high school with, with his pals. Across the table a chic in the company of no less than 4 guys. Every so often she gets out of her seat to dance. Yes. On one of these occassions one of the guys on our table is huko grooving with her. One of the guys she was with isn't too thrilled and asks that the intruder mind his own business. At some point the apparent boyfriend leaves. Why else would he be so possessive if he isn't the boyfriend. But it was surprising that he left. The gal liked to dance, like all gals do, and at some other point she was grooving with some random guy. Guy number two steps up from her table and pulls her away, so as to dance with her. So as to get her away from this guy actually. It looked like he was defending his pals honour or something. A sad state of affairs either way. Later on still she happened to be dancing by herself [guy number two gave up I think], and apparently got tired. And fell into my lap. Sure I gave her the customary glance and smile all the while she had been doing her thing, but I was as surprised as I've ever been, and as anyone else I think, to find myself holding her. Didn't even see it coming, I don't know where I was looking at the time.

So what did she want. I was speechless so she didn't stay long in my lap. But I've had this idea of not hitting on a chic who's in the company of guys. Something about not disrespecting the guys. And not wanting to get involved in a brawl. But I couldn't help but wonder what the chic wanted.

Two worlds

She remembers what you were wearing the first time you met. You can't remember the meeting.

Theatre

I went to see a play on sato. The first time I thought of doing such was when I decided to quit my job and was wondering what other stuff I would do. I did do drama in high school so why not seek out an audition and see what happens.

Two minutes into the play it hit me how difficult this would be. How do you get into a cast with Steve Muturi. And the cast has like 7 guys so there's no room for extras. How does one break into the establishment, generally speaking, in any field. It is daunting.

The play itself was pretty decent. Got one of the last seats. At 650 bob a ticket I'm not sure I'll make it a regular thing. Met a former high schoolmate during half-time. Had no idea they had half-time in these things, or how the rest of the audience seemed to know it was half-time. Everyone else clapped at the end of some scene after which it was, well, half-time. I got the impression they'd watched this before. Although to be fair it was one hour into the show, which ended up taking a total of 2 hours. Wasn't sure whether to walk out like some or stay put. Where would I walk out to. So as I was staying put, some guy seated one row down and across me turned. Turned out to be a guy I was in the same class with in high school. Hadn't seen him in the 10 years since. He was equally surprised to see me, and apparently more so that I was there alone. "Is it your birthday??", he asked. Sure most people, he included, were coupled up, but can't a guy just wake up from a nap on a Saturday evening and go watch a play. He did ask twice so that concept is apparently preposterous to some.

I did get to talk to one of the theatre guys. Can't remember his name but he's short[ish] and used to present some programme on Nation some time back. I think. He's directing some play in 3 weeks and I could fill some form for audition some place downstairs. I'm still recovering from what it would take, and I'm still tied up 8 to 5. I can still dream.

Church

It had been a while. A duration better measured in terms of years, or fractions of years than months. Got in late and had a seat on a side bench. Provided a real good view. Of all the folks gone off to slumberland, or waging heroic but losing battles. The row directly in front of me had 5 guys, in a row, whose heads were bowed throughout. And not in meditation I don't think. It's quite understandable I thought. What would you expect of a sermon out of and about Habbakuk.

I pondered also why a guy would wake up early, dress up, only to go and sleep in an uncomfortable position on a hard surface. Why not just stay at home. I like the concept of a sermonette. Before people start dozing off, it's all over. Also to be fair to the preacher, it is difficult these days to talk about anything about the current situation without appearing to take sides. If you say one thing you are perceived to be on one side, or the other, of the divide. That seems to be the key word. The degree of division among all sorts of people is unprecedented. It's manifestation anyhow. The natue and length of prayers reminded me that things are not quite "returned to normal".

Nakshi mrembo. Wicked

Two songs I heard perpetually while in coastarica. Sure, I'd heard them a couple of times [I don't listen to radio [metro doesn't count as radio]], but didn't appreciate how popular they were. It took 2 nights to discover that those in Mombasa like their bongo.

The first night I spent in the hotel room, and quickly realised why people go away on holidays with someone [and one of the waitresses at the bar/restaurant did urge me to go with company next time. I wonder if with all the goings on she's been laid off. They were actually looking to recruit while I was there] A single room has two beds and a double one. Baffling. But if you do intend on staying in the hotel room, you'd better not be alone. Or if you do go with someone, spend a lot of time in the room. It's the only way that makes sense.

The next day was spent with one of the two people I knew there. The new father. [I never got to meet Mombasa during the whole trip. Pity] He introduced me to one of the two chics who's numbers I got. Well, it's 3 strictly speaking but that's another story. This particular one mentioned [later] that it would have been funny and complicated things if I'd have made a move on her. Yeah. Let's just be friends. I couldn't bear spending that night in the room again. This from a guy who can lay in bed for 24 hours, moving only to perform bodily functions. I got into a mat at 8 knowing only that it was going the general direction of town. No clue where exactly it'll drop me off, and what I'll do once that happens. This actually dawned on me halfway through the journey, but I was atypically unafraid. We were dropped off somewhere and I made my way into the dark streets of a strange town. When I stumbled on a familiar landmark [I had been there the once before], I knew there was a god. Coincidence doesn't even come close. Finally made my way to the club. The first thing that hit me was the number of working women. It hit me every night after that also.

The second day was at the beach. Up, down, barefoot. I'd heard a lot about the beach. There was little chance then that it would live up to expectations. The view of the ocean was great though, seeing the tide going out was interesting and the pineapple juice was the best. Another night, another club, another chic, another number.

The Kamikaze and aJamaa arrived on day three. What did we do. I'll have to fill this blank later. The beach in south coast? The night too. I think it was the Mombasa version of Tropez. The club? The Lollipop. And Tembo. Yet another chic, and another number.

Day four had a drive to Malindi. These guys get up at 4 in the afternoon. And GTV is yet to reach there. Unbelievable. The night had CasaB [the club], and the VIP strippers. Hai! The carnival, and a return to Tembo.

Day five and another return to the club. There were women working at 11am. A true day and night club. Drove around during the night. Went through like 3 closed/empty joints before ending up at the Havana. Then back to the club.

Day six had the wild water slides. That was the most thrilling time I've had in a long long time. The flight back was incredibly short, and I held tightly onto my seat all the way. You don't even have time to finish a sandwich. Especially if you're a slow eater like moi. But a guy should take trips more often. If he still has a job and can afford them.

I was intending to post about a couple of songs. So much for intentions. But nakshi mrembo is wicked.

Friday, Today

Is it "Friday" today?

Perhaps. We have a solid 3-day holiday looking us in the face gentlemen. Are you tempted to call me lazy? Nothing new there. I can tell you, not much work has been done in IT today. Guys were on Soccernet and blogs and joke forums the whole day; I know this lot. A lot of colour on the screen means websites and not code editors.

Lets see how it goes.

Meet the Onion.

Engage the free gear because there is nothing you are working on. Go here:
http://www.theonion.com/

Some stories are funny; For instance this one
http://www.theonion.com/content/news/bush_acknowledges_existence_of
Some are just dumb.

public holidays

Finishing weekly targets today
There may be a public holiday tomorrow. And thursday. and friday.
They call it 3rd and final liberation.
Final because many may not live to see another one.
I hope i will.
i will not miss work because my neighbourhood will be violent, but because as
of what theory x captured very well. i am lazy.Taking advantage of the situation.
Come to think of it: only 1 official public holiday in Jan, but the last 2 weeks were a public holidays back to back.
if i was working for a ka-small firm, i would know am not getting paid.
Real blessings.
On sunday i spoke to a chic whose clothes (zile amevaa) had actually caught fire on 31st dec.
terrible. terrible.
Dear GOD.

Aberration

Odd. There was a magazine in the post. It wasn't meant to be there. Nobody has subscribed to it. A closer look revealed that it was a gift subscription. I didn't immediately recognize the name indicated as the giver of the gift so I assumed it was for the other guy in the house. But he too couldn't immediately recognize the name. I don't know that many women. And not that many women know my postal address. The women in the house were giving us suspicious looks. I responded with "it wasn't me".

Anyway. Thanks Nduta.

So close

Chics are good to be around. Fun to be with date and do stuff.
i love it.
But sometimes they miss their periods and you know it! Nature has outsmarted you.
A bastard could be coming.
when the last period corresponds to the last known activity time, you get worried.
Because you are a dad.
and may be a husband to be.
the chics parent works with some disciplined force. and she can shoot you.
nature may not select your best chic to be pregnant.
and conscience plays a big role in not disowning violently or doing a disappearing act.
It happened to me.
In that case i visit 0.5. he is not a psychiatrist. But i need to talk to someone. I can take ridicule, insults but who knows, he may actually pretend to be concerned. Give it a shot.
or should i read 'things fall apart'
This guy has a doctor friend who prescribes a pregnancy test.
The cost is low. 2 different brands for confirmation.
some urine please?
annnnd hold your heart. throbbing ...pounding....exploding...
a minute later and there it is.
No one is pregant.
I am not a father.
No role for conscience.
a red flag i raised.
Lest i became a father, and a husband.
so close i was.
My only chance in a decade to think of such possibilities

TV aint TV. Not in kenya and certainly not now

My TV has been taken over.
No more beer averts, evening programs. It's just people talking about peace left right and centre all the day everyday. All sorts of people. old women, aged men, unpopular musicians-oh
there's a song (by 5 oblivious musicians ft. kuna dawa ft. '3 not even musicians').
These guys pretend to love kenya.
Sunday 6pm: the mommons, akolinos, dini ya msambwa suddenly talk the same message.
channel 1: peace, channel n -1 : peace
Stop this madness. Or play it right next to the 250,000 displaced people on their TVs or their attackers.
Okay. Peace. we've heard.
stop this blanket condemnation.
we aint nothing but mammals.
Enter GTV

Seething with anger

Its a nice Friday afternoon, the sun is out and there are some nice blu skies and I am on leave. This should be a perfect day, but I am not having a nice day, I have not drunk since 23 Dec , I have not been to the gym since 19 Dec. But this is not why today is not a good day. The reason is that I am angry, seething with fury actually and short of punching the wall next to me or screaming into my pillow I do not know what to do.

I am angry because while people are getting burnt in churches and hacked to death (saw a very disturbing clip on Aljazeera of a guy getting hacked with a panga in Mathare) Kibaki is saying that he will only dialogue with 'interested parties' after political tempers cool down, the government spokesman is saying that they will not form a coalition with the loosers of the election, Kimunya is saying that Kenya does not require external parties to help mediate discussions with government (I am sure some Rwandan minister said the same thing in 1994), and Raila is saying that ODM will keep putting pressure on government.

I am furious that there is nothing I can do to stop the blood shed in the country and those who can are not doing what they must. They are playing a game of stare at me staring at you and lets see who flinches first while we die. How much blood do they want on their hands before they stop their stupidity 1,000, 10,000, 100,000.

I washed my hands off politics some time back. I am extremely skeptical of anyone who ventures into politics. When I was in campus I had very little respect for all the guys who stood for positions in SONU they were not the most reasonable people and yet it is this same people and others who are worse than them that become politicians so how can I waste time with a politician I ask myself. I registered as a voter in 2002 and voted but became disullusioned after that. I took holiday during the 2005 referendum to avoid voting. I watched movies on December 2007 to avoid voting. I was done choosing the lesser evil and since I cannot give a negative vote I was no longer willing to partake in this fallacy that is politics. I was happy being an innocent bystander, a spectator in this silly game. In my mind if I was not part of electing or rejecting a government then that government would have no moral authority over me. I would condone it but not get my knickers into a knot over any corruption, failed promises or ineptude it displayed. The government would be a nuisance, a necessary evil, a benign tumor that I would have to interact with when paying taxes, renewing drivers licenses and such other things. For the rest of the time I could go about sorting my life out.

There must be something I can do. If two men and their cronies can affect me and 30 million other people as adversely as they have I must be able to affect the two men.

Chapos!

New year. Stuck at digz because I do not want to stop a bullet. Or discover whether my skull can withstand a sturdy metal rod swung by some angry fellow.
Now, I have very few visitors. It must be cause of my warm, rosy nature. Mostly its my friend, the "ash", a.k.a Matejivu, who lives down one floor. Or my cousin.
Knock knock on the door.
I always shout in jest,...whats your name and what do you want? Assuming its my pal or my cousin.
The door is open and these two usually never hesitate to enter first and make a brief rap on the door as they pass it. However, whoever was at the door was not coming in:
So I get the door and a nice lady is standing there with this:
A plate of chapos.
My name is Michelle and I am positive you can't make chapos so I made some for you. Happy new year.

I was lost for words.
Thank you Michelle.

I feel lucky 2008.