Memory Lapse

Mjadala Wa Sasa

July 2006 to December 2007. Shorter than it sounds. If the politics in Kenya at the moment are anything to turn a blind eye to, then we must be headed to the same stupid mistake we did when we first elected NARC. It was stupid becoz like a heated erotic moment; we decided our future based on jiffy predominant feelings creamed with past injustices, instead of the real merits of the situation we were facing. We went as far as electing some jamaa on a wheelchair (Chelimo quipped “wheelbarrow”) and I bet ni no wonder walisema ilikuwa a euphoric victory!

I also bet that all these events from the Standard Group invasion, the Armenian Bros. & Co. saga, the relaunch of NARC as NARC-rose (miba kibao huko!), the UCHUMI collapse-revival, Nakumatt tax-evasion claims to the latest Raila debacle are somehow connected. Am trying hard to see the connection and the only one that comes to mind is the fact that the multitude are busy concentrating on this Omo opera na kuforget they have their real lives and real issues to overcome. When I think further am tallying similar “public stunt” events before every general election I’ve witnessed and am just tidbit curious, mbona sasa? I further bet that there’s still some two or three more major dramaz they are yet to unleash on us to secure our utmost attention and keep us blind from the real issues of service undelivery, corruption, self pay-hikes etc. Then the scene fades to haze and out emerges a Messiah; and our blinded, gullible selves vote for the jamaa like our lives depended on it. Ironically, it’s such politicians’ lives that depend on our vote. But when the board is flipped the way it’s presently being flipped, and we are oblivious of the bigger picture surrounding such events, soon enough we find ourselves in the same *@#$hole we swore never to drop in on again. Na vicious cycle of extremely bad leadership continues.

Kenyans are rather an out-of-the-ordinary crowd. We have maximum attention spans of just fewer than 21 days tuna forget EVERYTHING that happened 20 days backwards. Very few unrelenting good souls follow earth-tilting scandals like Goldenberg and Anglo-leasing. We have shoved aside and nearly forgotten what that whole Ndizi-Chungwa row was all about and the fact that Martha promised to give us a new constitution (I had to google that to remember!). I mean, why should we concentrate on such trivialities when there are newer, fresher, more theatrical commissions of inquiries formed every fleeting day. Forget that at the end of the day, tume spend several millions and nothing ever gets solved.

I wouldn’t waste a single ng’och nikinunua gazeti nisome about how many dogs Artur Margaryan bought from Dubai jana. Wouldn’t tupa a shilling on mediocre journalism that contributes to and fuels the public’s naivety to what’s really happening. I’d rather buy the Sun and haggle on who’s dating who among UK celebs – that should make more sense than 5 “hole” pages of inquiry proceedings! Moreover, I covered enuff Shakespearean experiences in skul to undergo such agony again.

Ever wondered why our pin-drop silent word-economist prezzo utuita wapumbavu?

Eye Drops in Tea!

What's your cup of tea?

In this knowledge age, you’re bound to learn something new everyday. Some of those things won’t really help you or enhance your life, but they are good to know. They are good to know becoz life has a funny and untimely way of handing you situations where you’ll drastically need such knowledge. Times like those you question why you did Simultaneous Equations in primary school and ain’t applying it in life; of coz if you thought hard about it, you’ll find a state of affairs you can apply it to. Like Polygamy and the Art of Playing. Pun intended.

Today I learnt that a few eye drops in tea causes diarrhea! How am going to use this trivia am still contemplating. It’s one of those things you wonder how the person who discovered it came about knowing it, must have been having tea-break at a clinic. Either that or some serious overdose of CSI.

Whatever your cup of tea, try and learn something different today. You never know when it might come in handy!

Visual Poetic Weekend

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This past weekend the British Council organized an underground artists expo themed "Green Day" to showcase and celebrate the environment. From graf to poetry, painting to open mics, colours and words in there, i had a blast and left there knowing there is some serious underground and upcoming talent in Kenya. The images captured some of the vibrancy.

Graf artists had total freedom to wreck havoc on BC's walls. And the walls ended up more lively n eye-catchin'.

My bro HINT did this graf for DJ Zaks who had the funkiest hiphop beats i've heard in a long while.

Nobel Laureate Wangari's portrait hand-painted on a white tee - check the detail!

Sprucing up the graffiti - think he overdid it with the leaves

Imani was "on-fire" with her poem "Smoke"! This gal can perform!

Crowd checkin' HINT's entry entitled "PHIKS" as a WIP

Kevo's entry "Atmosfear" choked the competition!

The Babel Tower Effect

A facet from language barrier

His face is reminiscent of those majestic Caesars marble sculptures, the pointed nose, the bushy eyebrows and that whole “romanness” persona. He’s trying to tell me something; I can hardly make a word out of it coz am busy entwined into thoughts of gladiators fighting lions in coliseums. His actions are increasingly getting animated and his words louder. By the way he’s pacing, I can tell he is really frustrated but from what, I can only guess. He knows that although he is talkin’ he ain’t communicating and that is also getting him worked up. Am sure what he’s telling me is important, even somewhat serious but I cannot process it to some meaningful action. I’m busy noddin’ my head and subconsciously saying “aiyayaa!” Maybe its just out of courtesy so that he can ease in his rising rage, maybe I want to look like am listening. I try to engage him for awhile first out of curiosity to hear mo words of this strange tongue and secondly in anticipation that he’d pop a word or two of English. Or Swahili!

Now am thinking how absurd this situation is, I have no idea why am entertaining this “conversation”. Somehow, outrageously intriguing, am expecting the guy to start talkin’ to me in a language I am au fait with. Am also silently wishing he’d miraculously begin to understand the words coming from my mouth. Clearly, none of us is making progress. Roman and English are opposites in the Tower of Babel.

By now he’s pacing up and down more rapidly, trying to scratch up the few words of English he knows. He’s really trying coz I don’t know half a Roman word! He says “Hotel”!! Progress at last! I ask “Want a hotel?” He slips back to No-communication Land. He repeats “Hotel!”, I ask “Name of hotel?” He slides deeper into blankness. Now this is getting’ abit desperate. One word conversations have never jazzed me. Am in the middle of some street, talkin’ to a Roman stranger whilst sayin’ a lot of nothing. I’ve already spent over 5 minutes in this futileness. My natural instinct whispers to me to try drawing, the universal language.

So I ask him if he can draw but the expression on his face leaves me expressionless. I need some evolution here, some affirmation that the course of action is agreeable and applicable to both of us. I mimic someone drawing and he nods his head, positively. Good, now I can get to understand what the guy really wants.

I instinctively reach for my pen and give it to him. He indicates he needs “papier” and from my omba-maji French, I gather he needs some paper. Thank God for cross-over words! Am desperate for a breakthrough so I frantically search my pockets for a piece. Good grief, I have none! Imagine the one day you really need some small blank paper is the one day you leave your whole sketchpad at home! I shake my head to tell him I have none. He acknowledges my response by throwing his hands up in resignation. By now am also on the edge and gather that translators are really useful people in our multilingual world.

By the look of things, I can’t help the poor Roman and he can’t express his problem to me. I decide to tell him “sorry”, hopin’ he can at least read its meaning from my face. He does and his frustration strangely turns to a smile; extends his hand to shake mine and tells me “sorry” too. We part to our different ways having said much and yet nothing!

Romance for Dummies

Cashing in on Love (or the lack of it)!

I've been thinking maybe i should write me a book. It seems like everyone is doing that nowadays, just watch Oprah or Tyra and you'll get what i mean. Someone undergoes some obscure experience, out of 6 billion jamaz, thinks they are the only ones who have been thru that and decide to publish a book - becoz they suddenly became "experts" in that topic. A stroll inside bookshops will leave you agape with the variety of topics you can read on, ranging from "How to Care for Your Cactus" to "Learn Computer Science in 5 Hours!”.

Because of this amusing burst of putting pen to paper on virtually any issue, debatable or not, more and more genres of writing are coming up. Dan Brown must be the first person to have written a fictional-real facts story! And just look at him now, multi-millionaire plus a topnotch movie deal to cream it!! It’s all about the C.R.E.A.M. And that’s the reason I’ll write one definitive book on romance. Am not going to sweat an inch when I compose this book of mine, I’ll just derive my content from observing lovers at Uhuru Park and maybe perusing the first pages of Romeo and Juliet! Oh, Juliet, her beauty makes this vault a feasting presence full of light!!

My intended book will be entitled “Romance for Dummies”. I reckon you can get all them technical dummy books out there but no one has thought about doing a book on sentimental issues that just spells things in kindergarten language. Is there need for it? To answer that, just conduct a poll on the popularity of match-making & lonely hearts and you’ll unwrap the opportunities.

Somehow over time, people became super-skilled in money-making and running the rat race and have a bleak idea of what the higher ideals of love, family and friendship mean. The problem is so acute that one person I know (and shall not name) can’t differentiate between being concerned and being self-centered!! Its nauseating people like these that inspire me to realize such “simplistic” projects. If I had the money, I’d do massive billboards with these “key messages” to enforce and inculcate the clearly-lacking values into people’s heads.

I’ve roughly thought about the content and I settled for: -

Chapter 1 – What’s Romance/Romance is Relative
Chapter 2 – So, You Wanna Be Romantic?
Chapter 3 – The Fool’s Proof Hook-up Lines
Chapter 4 – What Not-To-Do in a Date
Chapter 5 – Harassment & Other Courtroom Jargons
Chapter 6 – Common, Cheap Chocolates (and Flowers)
Chapter 7 – Fall Seven Times, Stand Up Eight
Chapter 8 – When to Quit/Love Doesn’t Love You
Chapter 9 – If This Doesn’t Work Try Finance!
Chapter 10 – Conclusion: Maps to France and Spain

I anticipate this book will be an instant hit. I mean, out of 6 billion people, there has to be a sizeable number of distressed jamaz, desperate enuff to buy a book that promises them an imperfect science of becoming romantic for a fraction of their first date!!

Rio Bluez

Twice beaten...

Someone said that when you play a team for the third time that you had defeated twice before, be very careful!! And so Les Bleus must have taken this to heart, rehearsed over and over their '98 finals execution of Brazil and came out to replay it - and it was deja vu!

Someone else said keep your friends close and your enemies even closer!! The Seleção Canarinha did not seem to heed this warning and so fell right into the death trap, for a second time. I, like thousands of other Samba fans expected more, much much more from a side that was not only favorites, but one that brought exoticness to this beautiful game. Sadly, they did not bow out as fighters, they were thrown out! Harshly as it sounds, am ok with that loss because France overplayed them and deserved that win. Yet, I’m still a loyal fan of the Samba Boys.

Am thinking maybe they needed this drawback so that they feel what its like to lose - and the new fresh legs like Robinho get ignited to come out their finest by such a narrow margin slash. The reverse psychology they used did not help, ultimately, fate had it implemented. From the onset, even Pele commented Brazil won't make it; that was meant to make the players prove their critics wrong. They didn't and so Rio was drowned by the blues.

Sadly, the exit of this illustrious constellation left the event with a Euro-Cup scenario and here is where I begin questioning the "fairness" of the World Cup. Europe gets 14 slots for the tournament while Africa gets 5!! A simple class in maths will tell you the probability of Africa winning, or even advancing far into the finals is very slim, and perhaps deliberate. Yet before every game, they display the "Fair Play" banners. Questionable.

The World Cup is over for me. Granted, i'd be watching the rest of the matches with an almost-insignificant-passionless disposition. That's because i think the teams that remained are not worth their own salt. The only reason I may be inclined to half-support Portugal is because their coach is Scolari, a Brazilian who coached Brazil's winners of 2002!! France, well, their whole play is nothing but blues. It's amazing how they came back and it didn't hurt me as much because it was Henry who stabbed us deep; and he's one player who's game is beautiful, up there with the greats. The Azzuri should pack hurriedly so they can concentrate on the match-fixing debacle back home. Germany for crying out loud has been favored to pass thru since they are at home…Imagine for a minute if you will, empty stadia.... Sure, they have super players like Klose and Ballack, but their game has not been impressive. To say the truth, i find the Premier, the Champions League and the Copa America much fascinating, much deeper and much more ecstatic than this WC has been. Real Football, Real Passion.

At the end of it all, Brazil still have 5 proud stars. The closest to this record is Italy and Germany both with 3. Maybe if Klismannschaft go thru, they can add a fourth one. But I hope the Portuguese do it this year!