Marazz: The 3quel

Born to B.R.E.E.D

2010-07-26T13:30:00.000+03:00

Build Relationships where Enlightening and Education Dominates
(Monie Love)

Seven Hundred Billion

2008-10-02T11:01:00.001+03:00

Red dollars discarded their greeness eons ago
For one we do not trust
Imagine
What a trillion more options would mean
To our already disembalanced earth
The final tilt of a sardistic agenda? Well orchestrated for hypnotised masses
Under glaring silver screens
Busying ourselves with
Prison Break Series Seven
While seven hundred billion bailouts
Are breaking out to suffocate the thin thread of light
Left
Right
At this edge led into gallions (sic) not blindfolded
Nay but
Well seeing with no comprehension
Clueless
While T-Bag escapes with the moneybag
Which Scofield needs to reach Newfoundland
To turn sand into blood and black gold into green envy

(to cont.)

Against All Thoughts

2008-07-29T19:36:00.003+03:00

When i said we put that distance between us
because i had issues i needed resolved
it must have come out all wrong
so you took the road to fade
and it was all too familiar
it was something i've been thinking
shouldn't happen
can't happen
but again
its happening
against all thoughts.

28/7/08

Chasing the Skyline

2008-07-10T19:14:00.005+03:00

When I looked up you were gone

The silver lining had turned a cold gray

And I sat there gazing at the emptiness that you left

Wishing I had one last moment before your exit

Some of these days I look out the window

Expecting you to come through that door

Surrounded by the halo that you stole from the clouds

Shining into my life again

Most times the reality overwhelms me

And I face those clouds whilst kissing you

Goodbye

No one said it would be easy

Yet no one said it would be this hard

I scavenge my thoughts and memories

Trying as hard as I can not to lose the details

These details that define me through you

Intricacies that only a father could know of his daughter

And I keep them locked away

Safe from the reach of forgetfulness

Only my heart knows the void it feels

And I fall short trying to describe it

Yet at times this void is

Filled

With my conceding that I’ve lived my life

Through yours

Fulfilled.

W10.7.08

For Rahma, for your Dad.

3Quel

2008-07-09T13:57:00.002+03:00

Velcommen to the Third Writ!

Starting today, this is the 3rd flipside of Marazzmatazz. Enjoy!

-m

bonga

2008-07-03T15:51:00.001+03:00

nabonga na wewe...
na nina bonge la bonga kukupa
bunge imenibore
daily kuna drama
nawish wangeniinterview
niwashow
"i really don't care wabunge wanafanya what,
wacheni wajivinjari"
manze haliniingi kwenye bongo
vile wana do.

200 Fools

2008-06-30T15:05:00.002+03:00

Whispers

In my head.

The Grand Regency stolen, repossessed, restolen
right before our blind eyes

thoughts shift
If I could manage to get two hundred fools to buy in on this idea, for only as little as ten shillings a day, each

for something like thirty six months, no, no
make that sixty months

I would wallow in money.

I bet that MP of ours

that's the kind of calculation he's been making
while undressing these huge crowds

he's counting votes, sorry notes

we counting on change.

copyright, lenjo maza
30.06.08

if words

2008-06-23T10:48:00.002+03:00

if words
could transform to become livable actions
easily
intertwine with the intentions
of mine heart
disperse the fears i hold
bring me sun
bring me dreams realized
not cleverly crafted to sway
and pimped up beyond
recognition
of what they are to convey

if words
i heard could be real
reach into the crannies of my world
and make every corner
glow
make me believe
that these words carried that change
sincere
without
deceit
without
fooling pageantry.

copyright asad maza. june 2008

3Quel

2008-06-19T13:41:00.001+03:00

....as i prod into the crannies of my world.

its done

2007-11-17T19:51:00.001+03:00

today
like a lioness watching her cub coming of age
going out into the harshness
i should let you go
like a dandelion finally shedding off its seeds
to get dispersed into the wide openess
to face whatever awaits them
i should escort you
gently let go of this hand
that had been forever holding yours
let it down for you to stray far into the land
far from this reach again

tomorrow
i should wake up to a brand new day
without you here
without the thought you would get back
without even the faintest wish that you shall return
i should wake up to the reality
that its done and cannot be undone
that this is that horizon
once stepped obliterates all we ever had
i should learn fast to live with it
it won't be easy but life teaches hard lessons

because only yesterday
you stopped being mine.

____
w17.11.2007 copyright asad 2007

What Door?

2007-11-13T11:49:00.000+03:00

When one door closes, another window opens. But to see that window opening you have to have intent to see it.

But intent isn’t enough is it? My grandma always tells me, have intention, then try, then do.

And i try to do. When i fail seven times, i get up eight. That is the code i strive to live for.

Living a certain code is hard. It’s hard as much as it is easy. It is hard when you lose focus of that code and stray in unrelated words like i feel am doing with this story. Yet its easy when you know exactly the stage of the way you are at. Most of the times, I find myself shuffling between these two.

I remember “Dojo” the Japanese philosophy - its not as much where you are in a particular path that matters. It’s about what you do whilst there.

So i find myself in this path. Regardless of where it leads, regardless of where i am on it, i do what matters. That’s all i can do. The universe has a way of letting us know we are a minute detail of its composure. Yet the lovely thing is that what you do transcends the path, it determines how the universe reciprocates to you.

Am i making sense?

I don’t know. Am blubbering.

Back to the window. Focus. You see the sliver of light struggling to enter as it opens. Look intently at it. Forget about the squeak of the closing door. Let go of its image. Concentrate on the window. Hold that picture as long as you can.

Once you hold the picture, try to see beyond its four corners. There are no corners. Light streams from outside and beams the entire room. Light touches the edges of this window and merges them with the wall, blurring the boundaries.

You bask in the warmth of sunrays kissing you. The entire room is white butterflies and birds and dandelion pods float on its glow. You reach out to return the kiss. The warmth is real, the whiteness is real, the butterflies and birds and dandelions are real. So as you kiss, this time you don’t miss. It’s real.

It’s as real as you. And the path you are on. And the point at that path you have reached. And the direction you face at that point in that path. And as real as what you do at that point in that path facing that direction.

Isn’t it amazing how soon you forgot about the closed door?

Fumbo kwa wanaofumbua.

Bibi Kapata Hela

2007-11-12T11:27:00.000+03:00

Siisemi kwa kuikemea wala kuitania

Lakini akilini wazo kanimiminikia

Upana wake kwenye gumzo kanifikia

Tunawaza tukiwazua na wenza maskani

Mada tukilichambua mpaka zake mpakani

Moja kanena “Bibi keshapata hela,

Nyumba kalibadilisha jela”

Nami sikusita kulichangia kidogo

“Wako wake wenye kiburi kupita Firauni

Keshashika sumni kidogo

Mume kamtia aibuni”

Mkalia jiwe naye akaingilia

“Mara mume yuko jikoni akimpakulia

Mke tena halafu bafu

ajikunje mgongo mpaka kifua

Ajikaze akifua

Nguo za nje na ndani zote kuzitundika nje

Kwenye kamba

Za mke na watoto zote sambamba”

Kabla kumaliza mwingine kafwatua

“Kuna wengine, lo!

Haswa wakaliwa na kukamuliwa

Mume haneni lolote mbele ya mke wake

Hana chochote angalau kuliita chake

Mkia kalikunja tena kulificha halifichuki

Mdomo na mawazo korokoroni kikomo

Ndoa kawa pishi lililojazwa chuki”

Mara sote twacheka huku twagadhabika

Kwanini wake wengine wakawa hivi?

Pindi kashika shilingi zashinda bwana

Bwana we! Dharau na utata nyumba kaletewa

Hakukaliki na hata kukikalika

Basi ni mke kamkalia mume juu.

--- copyright lenjo asad 2007 ---

Flex, Cutex & Latex

2007-11-07T09:24:00.000+03:00

-

Wahenga walinena “Kuishi kwingi, kuona mengi” - the more you live, the more you see.

Incredibly ingenious are the things i learnt this weekend. Coming with “ex” at the end, it all revolved around one very delectable topic. You guessed it!

First there was the free spectacle that i betook to, watching tortoises getting it on. The locals told me that that was a very rare treat to behold and that fuelled my zeal even more. It was outside in the drizzle which made me conclude that such conditions were not only conducive to humans after all! Now imagine there are no photos – the camera got engaged right at that moment when “the mount” occurred. Acrobatics i tell you. The act was naturally slow – but still managed to produce smoking shells outside in the rain. Looked like huge boiled boulders kept outside to steam off!

As i was waiting to take a matatu to Elsamere, hoards of hawkers barraged me with everything from handkerchiefs to padlocks to biscuits. None of these normally useful items interested me. My thoughts were fixated on getting to my destination. But out of this sea of hawkers came someone holding a small aluminium box that resembled those ones they use to hawk samosas and sausages. What was different about this particular box was that it housed not foodstuffs but nail-polish! All types, all colours. The exterior had swashes of the variety painted on it with different clip nail shapes. He had my entire attention. I thought it was a joke. Apparently, he’d walk round like that and get someone who wants a manicure and its done on the streets! Ingenious!

Then in one of my “curious” discussions, i rediscovered something called latex allergy. This is when someone is allergic to latex better known as rubber. More specifically, rubber used in condoms. Now, i don’t know what that whole program entails but it “raises” alot of concerns doesn’t it – if you ever get diagnosed with that.

Bridezilla!

2007-10-30T08:07:00.001+03:00

You’ve been musing about the perfect tuxedo cut for your wedding, entertaining the style in your head over and over again. Slaaaaaaaaaash! Forget it all. She has concluded all that on your behalf, together with the minute details that you thought were quite insignificant. You know details like how the flowers will hang at the venue’s entrance, the colour of the reverse side of the guests’ table name tents, the colour of the reverse of the table linen, what butter brand will be used on the appetizer buns and an impressively endless list of everything insignificant.

You as much as open your mouth to say “Honey, shouldn’t we...”, slaaaaaaaaaaash! You get frozen halfway with your probably half-baked idea.

This is going to be The Wedding she dreams of since she was two. Nothing will deviate from the grand mental picture that she has. Everything will be perfect. It better be otherwise she won’t feel “married”.

There’s something about the way chics carry on about weddings that freaks me out. Exchanging vows in front of the entire village that came along with a few octogenarian relatives (poor souls) ain’t enough. It’s not enough that at least you will settle into a life of companionship and love. Noooooooo, that ain’t enough. The very act of proposing to her which you thought was the icing on the cake becomes totally minute the minute she says “Yes”. From that moment forward, she takes over as actor, supporting actor, main grip, make-up artist, visual fx designer and yes, you guessed it - Director. You as much as whisper a new word not from her script, “Cuuuuuuut!” Retake!

Chics would go on and on about how the shoes should look like, how many stairs that cake should have, what flavour it would be, what shape, colour, weight and height it will take. She will most likely choose the chef as well as the ingredients and sufuria that that cake will be baked on. And if you thought that was attention to detail, wait til you get to The Wedding Dress.

Oh, forget about the dress. That’s a conversation to last years. By the time she’s hooked up for real, trust me, she’s a fashion designer in her own right. She has it covered down to the number of laces on the white gloves, the length of the bow ties and the shininess of the bling bling hanging from the dress.

Just when you start feeling the swoon of getting swallowed in this one-way street, that you have no say in, you find yourself standing in that isle that has her name written all over, whispering “I Do” to Bridezilla!

Then she commands you “Say it loudly”!

Unity Candle

2007-10-23T15:33:00.000+03:00

Today i learnt an interesting thing.

That in some modern weddings, there's something called the Unity Candle.

It's a candle lit from two other single candles and signifies the becoming of one for the two people being wed.

Struck by its symbolism, I inevitably processed the thought further.

As its lit, the other two are extinguished. The past left in the past. Individuals become partners.

And so in the state of their union, they are flamed, changed and consumed by the same heat.

They are swayed and troubled by the same wind.

They follow the path of the same cord and turning at its bends without resistance.

They stand firm on the same footing and if weak get extinguished by the same fall.

Sometimes cool and composed, at times fiery and tempious.

The drips of their experiences form back within them to make them stronger.

And if they let go of these experiences, its hastens their extinction.

The drips of their union fall not far from them and if they do its in darkness.

At its height, the union burns bright, spreads light until at its death, darkness.

Drip to drip, ash to ash.

All is consumed apart from the cord whose path they followed.

The memory of the light they shone.

And the base on whose footing they planted their foundation.

WAPI16, Idd & Kids

2007-10-17T17:22:00.000+03:00

Sato was one of those days. Hectic with like a thousand things cramped up into the 8 or so hours of daylight. At the end of it – i think it was so worthwhile for me. Started with a peaceful Idd prayer, then jumped to a crazy mid-morning in town, then headed to teach a graphics workshop at the British Council which also happened to run simultaneously with WAPI (yes, that explains my absense on this wapi), then dashed kuenda kujivinjari with family coz it was Idd! But rest assured, when i touched my Grandma’z pilau, all the stress vaporised!

Ahem, my weekend as a paparazzi! Enjoy.

Chivalry Ain’t Dead

2007-10-09T11:55:00.000+03:00

In the midst of the little fright of drizzle, in the middle of the sprawling Kencom bustop, in the dead of the rush hour, scores of people haste to and fro, trying to connect to their respective places. One curious sight catches my eye. This woman, beautifully lady-like is on the same rush. Behind her is a man holding up an umbrella to cover her but little sheltering himself from the rain. He’s clearly trying to keep up with her brisk walk, all the while smiling sheepishly. This man here is a rare species – one very thought to be long extinct by most of Nairobi ladies today. This species escaped my camera; i think i could have fetched some pretty prices at the Endangered Species Section of Nairobi Museum!

But then again I think the drizzle must have gotten the better of his wool for him to act so selfless. She on the other hand seemed to care little that he looked more like a wet clown than a prince charming, running behind her with that umbrella - awkwardly pushing himself forward while stretching his hands further to the skies. She was busy scavenging for that magic number in front of the bus that translated to her trip home! I read desperation all over him. Poor dude, looked almost like he had become subservient to this lady. Was that blind intoxication or was it gentlemanly chivalry. Beats me.

Anyway, got me thinking. Does real chivalry still exist? Is it still possible to take a lady out to dinner and not get into a fight of who’s paying that bill coz of some post-Beijing memorandum? Is it possible to still pull out seats before she sits and not as a prank? Is it still possible to escort someone to her gate and her not starting to act all jittery like you expected a peck (at the least) for the selfless gesture? Is it possible? Of coz it is.

But then it begs the question. Why are they that rare?

My wild guess is this. It’s the ladies’ fault. They have gradually and surely exhausted any trace of chivalry in today’s men. Everything now is some form of engendered competition. You do it the manly way you know how, it becomes “Kwani you think us women can’t do it?” Mpaka we’ve fikad a point we start publishing zines like “Adam” to reclaim what we think manhood represents. This all in response to the True Loves, the Drums and the Cosmos.

This leads me to think that chivalry is actually what women think it is. If they consider you cooking for them ugali at 6am is chivalric, then it is!

Painting the Town Orange!

2007-10-08T11:30:00.000+03:00

My weekend was ecstatic. On sato, it seemed the better part of nairobi's residents wore my favourite colour - orange! Every two steps you took, you saw an orange top. Women, men, kids! It was like an orange-uniform day. All these because that was the day the Orange Democratic Movement (ODM) party with Raila Odinga as its flag-bearer were holding a public rally at Uhuru Park to launch his presidential campaign. And they termed it Day of Thunder. The turnout, as expected was mammolithic! An orange sea of humanity as far as your eyes could see. I scattered about to get shots of this orange inspiration. Below, behold!

nEW sWING

2007-09-27T17:19:00.000+03:00

something new is happening to me. my life.
it's like the dream of old coming to be. realising.
it's got me wishing it hastens. but i can't rush fate.
so i wait. with baited breath.
i wait and wish and think and anticipate.
she feels like infatuation fused with destiny.
soulmate fused with me.
she's slowly occupying every inch of my thoughts.
and i?
i ain't complaining.
coz its a new swing.
i've waited. with baited breath.
for maybe too long. time to sing.
bring her me and my egocentric self. fades.
start a book whose chapters will erase.
the old.

w2797

Bigger Than Hiphop

2007-09-18T18:30:00.000+03:00

Ever met someone you felt you could endlessly derive inspiration, wisdom and knowledge from? I met three this past weekend. That’s what my Saturday turned out to be at the 15^th WAPI. These three luminaries were none other than M1 of the underground supergroup Dead Prez, Umi of PoW and Mama C – Tanzania-based former Black Panther.

The blend of sharp, crisp nuggets of mind sparkers, grafitti, visual art, bhangra-fused hiphop trax, poetry and electric climax perfomance from M1 and Umi left me with just one word for my sato. Absolutelyawesomesmackingincredible!

Am not a sucker for celebs or larger-than-life personalities but for me, right from the onset of knowing one of the Dead Prez would be in Nairobi, i had an almost zealous urge to see them. Besides that i’ve always attended WAPI and so we would be on the same venue anyway, i yearned to engage one-on-one with one of the realest MCs in hiphop today. I realized that dream and more. I discovered that realness beyond my expectations.

At the press brief, M1 and Umi spat out what could easily have been the anthem for this WAPI’s theme – Detox. They churned out fact and wisdom, history and inspiration for a good 30 minutes. If anyone of us in that room left the same, that would be a great shame. I came to realise from the straightup attitude of these MCs what i’ve always hoped this whole music shabang would one day be. Bigger than Hiphop. Bigger than the blingblings, bigger than the môet, bigger than the platinum grills or the gold-rimmed rides. Surely, it had to be bigger than these self-centered facets.

It is.

It’s about building and lasting relationships with ourselves. It’s bigger than hiphop. It’s about rebuilding from the disadvantaged shackles of our history. It’s bigger than hiphop. It’s about learning from our mistakes, excesses and exercising our talents with boldnes . It’s bigger than hiphop. It’s about galvanising our resources to face the great future waiting to embace us. It’s bigger than hiphop. It’s about recognising our inner strength, cultivating it in ourselves and our kids from when they pronounce “mama” to release it in its grandest form once it climaxes. It’s bigger than hiphop. It’s about celebrating our heritage, our uniqueness, our bonds, our lives with others not restrained by the brainwashing machinery of what the “Haves” would want us to remain in.

Something about these lessons resonated so much with me that it was perhaps not surprising that that morning i came along with a piece i did dedicated to Dead Prez – Detoxikation of the Mind. I gave this piece to M1 and he requested i sign it for him. Such humbleness! And he autographed my copy too! That felt great, it affirmed that this man genuinely taught and preached water. Listening to him was to realize that his music was truly Bigger than Hiphop!

And the images from Sato! Enjoy!!!

-----

On other news, isn’t this life but a fleeting past-time? The irony hit me like an iron anvil on top of my head – Colin McRae dying in a helicopter crash! Damn and we still dispute the decree of the Almighty.

----

Romance for Dummies 1

2007-09-05T11:13:00.000+03:00

Sometime back I thought it would probably be a good idea to write a book (a manual really) to help people like myself survive through romance. It was an idea borne out of necessity. Dates were like water in a desert and when I thought I landed one, it turned out to be a really large gaping mirage. And because Romance as a word is over-romanticized, it makes getting into it a very daunting task. Trust me.

So rule number one. De-romanticize romance. How do you do that? Well, you see all those lovey-dovey messages in your phone. Don’t ever use them as hook-up lines. Just walk up straight and say “My number is..”. You may get a new number back or a very heavy slap. Either way, your cheeks will get some action. Those little red candles sitting pretty at your place, waiting for that “perfect” nice dinner that will never be, thrash them far far away. And call the rubbish collector to come for the bin. Babyface songs? Listen only when she’s interested. And if she feigns even a faint interest, cram the whole Lyricsforyou.com page. Otherwise, put Westside Connection’s “Westward”.

Once you get the hang of it, go on and eradicate every little component that suggests “romance-according-to-Desperate-Housewives-Ruby-and-other-Soaps”. These sitcoms are broadcast to millions of poor souls who actually believe them to be real and go out to practice what they saw the previous night. Suddenly you have millions of dumb potato-couches acting the same. Being cliché is the number one killer of a boring unromantic relationship.

So rule number two. Be different. Unrealistically unpredictable. If on the first date you said you love fish on coconut, vehemently deny it at date two! That ain’t lying; it’s slightly bending the predictability curve. Never ever be caught with the same lie twice. To make it easier, keep a Little Book of Excuses. Tick as used. The more spontaneous you are the better. That applies to positions too. Debating positions I mean.

Rule number three is simple. Learn all the basic facts about the other person. Number of siblings, how many sisters, brothers, mums and fathers, toes on right foot. Favourite colour, worst ever experience, thing that angers them the most (to be used to your advantage) etc. There’s something exciting about knowing that someone else knows something about you. I’ve never understood what that was all about, but since it works, hey! Keep a track of all these in a Little Book of Facts & Figures. The Figures will have things like ideal waist size, real waist size, ideal weight, actual weight, ideal age, actual age, shoe size etc).. Mostly use the ideal figures. Drop them like gems in conversations, wisely and sparingly. The opposite although true, may be disastrous to future relationship prospects. Say something along the lines, “Darling, that model doesn’t compare to your figure 8” although she may be an oversized 37. Again, this is not lying its only slightly stretching the international waist size standards.

Secret of Three

2007-08-27T09:37:00.000+03:00

The argument was delectable, or at least it was from my side. She’s busy nailing me to the cross whilst standing there with an imaginary halo hanging over her head. I break this halo into pieces when I ask her “Did your source tell you what was in it for them telling you this?” Perturbed ain’t the word to describe what this evening has become. Like the calculated tocks of my mind’s Big Ben, I knew somehow one little trickle of information will come back to haunt me. Or vindicate me. You see, in this place, this place I’ve come to loath, the walls have supersensitive ears.

Being sly she says is like a cook who thinks they are the best until they go to France. Nevertheless, being sly has become second nature to me. For the same reasons that are cooking this drama I’m caught in. You get so many people in this world who would do anything to get what they want. That includes grinding you over with the meanest Caterpillar truck they can find and still smile and say “Sorry, friend!” It includes ladies who would go miles over their “friends” just to get to a man who isn’t interested in them anyway. Forget that the said lady has a man herself. That creates one very hot pot of backstabbing drama. That’s where slyness comes in. Slyness brings the scum of this group of people up to float like foam that you wash away from your life with but one swift blow. You lay a trap, they take it, you swing back and before they realize, it’s done.

I listen to her telling me she’s so disappointed in me, having believed that I shared “our secret conversation” with someone else. Never mind that the walls here hear. Never mind that she’s already concluded am guilty and that I’ve neither defense nor trust to my name. She says she wouldn’t trust me ever again. Fair enough, after all, I don’t trust myself too! I however question myself, what’s trust in this whole situation? Is trust the convenient part of the court you decide to play in when it suits you? Is trust trusting what you hear over what you know? Is trust believing someone who has conflict of interest written all over them? Is trust believing the little scraps of info you receive without sifting through them first? Is trust not being able to stand by what you believe and instead jump and cling onto someone’s bull crap? What’s trust? I confess, I have failed to understand. If trust is all these, I might as well be guilty of no trust.

I once heard information is knowing and knowledge is power. The best part of this whole thing is the third piece of cake still left untouched. This third piece is mine. If I throw the fork and knife at it, I bet it will create more stickiness. Too much sugar my mum warned me is bad for my health. Still, I’m a sucker for my sweet-tooth. So am gonna shelf it away for another day. And Lord pray, when that day comes am going to have me one big piece of pure niceness.

Modern Day Slavery & Livery

2007-08-21T11:42:00.000+03:00

Mista Ri is on stage rapping away punch-lines so sick, AIDs will be scared. “Nikienda Kisumu na wewe and you had a t-shirt dissing Raila, I’ll still be more stoned than you!” Another goes like “Mimi ndo role model wa role model wako”. And so was the flow of the 14^th WAPI to date this past weekend.

I’ve stated times before that WAPI – Words and Pictures is a great forum for expression, what am concerned about though is if it’ll get to a point you see a real difference in the lives of its participants. For one, most of the underground MCs that rock mics at WAPI come from the hoods – Mathare, Kibera, Eastleigh and Kawangware among others. They seek a dim ray of hope – that of bursting into the murky Kenyan music limelight. Their ticket there - a couple of sharpened rhymes and one mic. It is this dim ray that brings them to such forums. Being the 14^th event, I reflected on how far it had come. Slightly over one year old now, it should be an appropriate time to evaluate the differences this event has made. It’s nearing maturity and a stage where sense of direction matters most. That sense of direction should be driven with the knowledge that it will serve to enhance the lives of these artists in one form or another. Skill development, networking, peer-to-peer review or even the exposure that was starkly missing from the arts in Kenya.

I must say that the topic Modern Day Slavery was exhaustively discussed this time round, to the detriment of those who come to the event for only the music! Some seemed bored and left although when afternoon came around, the place was teeming with crowds.

Graffiti was not impressive. I had the chance to be among the graf judges and only three pieces really struck me as good. When we announced the winner, there was uproar – mostly out of ignorance. Most people seem to look at graffiti on aesthetics’ point of view only forgetting things like relevance to the theme, execution, creativity and originality. Some graf artists were creative, they went an extra mile incorporating gold and silver sprays into their works while others went typo-pictorial. The winner went further. FACT – a group of four had a pictorial-typo-symbolism-within-type graf. And hit the nail on the head regarding the theme. It was a superbly executed collaborative piece. If I judged it thrice, they’d have won thrice.

My take on modern day slavery was simplistic. I looked at my life and thought of money and my mobile phone as my new masters. The fact that every day I have to wake up, money on my mind and my mind on my money. Everyday Hustling. The only breather I get is still occupied with thoughts of cash. The little innocent pod I call my life is surrounded by consumerism and capitalism. C.R.E.A.M - Cash Rules Everything Around Me, another good graffiti summed my life up. In this state, I try to escape to something more fundamental, something on a spiritual or emotional level yet stay trapped in the clasps of CREAM.

Some time back, I had no phone and life was sweeter. There were no problems with friends hooking up – somehow we still did. Now leaving my phone behind for 10 minutes is a No-No! I can’t live without it, trust me I’ve tried. It has become the centre of my CREAM world, its very heart. Even when I long to be still, it still thuds and vibrates to my dismay. I find myself fidgeting with it purposelessly. I’ve become a slave to its bidding, one cry from it and I swiftly beckon. After a time, a new version comes along and becomes my new master. It has polished and upgraded features that I cannot resist. Nor pronounce. Bluetooth, infrared, java-enabled entertainment, 5.5 megapixels of tempting camera, radio, Oh the pain! Modern day slavery is such sweet pain.

Honey-coated

2007-08-14T11:08:00.000+03:00

Desperate’s the feel as musk scented envelopes peel
Then eager perusal of each letter scrutinized to the letter
Slightly pressed still no return address
Soft heartbeats next to every alphabet
I feel the electric smile romancing me across miles

The radio has long kept playing that one song
The one that reminds me of all those blind moments
When we could have stolen a kiss and basked in its bliss
And miss it all again when we heard that piece
Still acted like nothing cut until the distance hurt

Tearing scratches of life’s knife on my life and yours
Patching these emptiness tears with the wetness of happy tears
Receiving that message in a bottle with a floated massage
Warmly wrapped to calmly cool
the desperate feel engulfing my honey-coated zeal.

Copyright Maza Asad - 2007

----

Await the letter on email. :)

MotorShow...For Real?

2007-08-06T10:56:00.000+03:00

this sato i was at the much taunted carshow, so i dragged myself there despite the grey clouds hovering, threating to pour down like revenge. i was so psyched up from friday that i'd get to see superbly done rides - the type you see in pimp-my-ride-like shows. Ole wangu! i paid a cool kshs. 350 to see some lousy s%^&! that didn't match to all that hype. Ati carshow? They need to change that name and just call it plain Not-So-All-That-Car-Display.

Mash Auto, the kingpins of car pimping were not there - you could almost tell they had beef with these organizers, their absence shouted! And its like all entries were from one Unity Garage! Alone! What diversity! Anyway, a few pieces caught my eye - the airbrushing on some of them was just too deadly.... like the orange and blue ladeis on the bonnets..... other than that, i think i saw much more impressive cars outside the show than inside!

Starting with these 2 beauties.....

Wyt Elefants!

2007-08-02T21:13:00.000+03:00

Shuffling thru last month's newspaper, i get stuck on this one story.
The high court ordered Il Ngwesi, a community conservancy to pay a British woman 105 million (there's no typo there - 105!) as compensation for being injured by an elephant while she was vacationing there. Now that sounds like the highest figure ever rewarded to an individual in kenyan legal system. The community conservancy argues that this steep penalty will kill the spirit of conservation. I agree. But i also want to ask Justice Mary Ang'awa who delivered the ruling, would she have reached the same conclusion (read amount) if it were, say, a Maasai nomad injured by the elephant seeking compensation? Ati Justice is blind? Not around here!

Cause, enyewe, bila lies tena online, i know quite a number of people who are more than willing to have a tusk or two right up their abdomen if we are talking such moneys getting into their worn-out pockets. Moja wao mimi! I tell you, i can to that extra mile, coerce an elephant to trumple me while my buddy takes the snaps as evidence. Seriously though, is it coz she's a jungu that she gets 105 million? Na hata kama, kwani what kinda injuries were these seeing that she survived to sue the conservancy out of every little shilling they had gate collected.

I say, some things done in court nowadays! If you come to Africa and take the risk of going out into the wild, rewind, the wild, rewind again - THE WILD, you should not expect "compensation" when things don't go as you planned. Still on that topic, wonder what that particular elephant thinks of all this overblown issue. Am sure he doesn't remember shit!

I don't blame the lady though - i mean, if i saw that same opportunity, i could have wrapped myself round the trunk just to get it awarded to me! But, and i say this most reservedly, was the situation commensurate to the compensation? And would that have applied to any other skin colour? Somehow i don't see it (pun intended).

Fire, Flies and Inkvault!

2007-07-30T12:08:00.000+03:00

Flies are generally a nuisance and its no wonder we don't take second looks at them. this weekend however, i took my canon for a fly adventure and got some interesting shots. suffice to say, i've never seen flies like i did this time. i just wish i had the macro lens, then i could have gotten real superb images of the coloured wings and the shiny surfaces, the lightweight wings etc. saving for that lens....

i also opened the inkvault design agency office and was painting it red. literally! took some shots so that when we're flying high and mighty, they can remind us where we came from.

lastly, remember those days we were young and we used to be warned "ukicheza na moto, utajikojolea?" well, i did play with fire but didn't see those consequences. i think fires create incredible photos. And still on those olden days, who remembers this ka-thinghy we used to ride... play "safo" with, the one you were bought for after 6 months of endless pleading!

Mr. Bones Size - Form or Function?

2007-07-26T12:42:00.000+03:00

Poor Rachel was so disappointed when she discovered that Daniel's (her man) 24 inch was a TV!

As a normal milestone when solving a design problem, i'd ask myself if the end design should be more of function than beauty or the other way round. Most design applications stress function over form. Only recent trends such as miniaturization of mobile phones stress the form aspect. Still on this trail of thought, it occurred to me that alot of people (men and women alike) give so much undue attention to the size of Mr. Bones, easily forgetting that this is one product (!) that was manufactured with a unique, all-round form but infinite possibilities of where (and sometimes how) to function. Its called Genius Design.

Alot of jamaz have taken advantage of these multitude of "form over function" believers so now one out of a dozen sites you visit has a pop-up (appropriately) enticing you to try the new revolutionary enlargement technique. Guaranteed 2 weeks results! No side effects come as a bonus! All-Natural they claim!

Nao, sijui kama women also have such complimentary techniques to worry about - but when a jama is bombarded with these endless ads of a "perfect" form, generally agreed by ISO standards to be above 12", you find yourself questioning the adequancy or inadequancy of your Mr. Bones. Every time you read that ad - if you'll read it that is - you feel the shrinkage. A little background research however will have revealed to you that its all a scam - even a 4" wheel can drive you from nairobi to mombasa and back.

It's how you drive on that wheel that matters.

Afterthought: I was tempted to put an accompanying graphic (sic) to this post, but it would have been inadequate. Sorry, inappropriate!

Still processing the thought....

8 on Me

2007-07-23T10:29:00.000+03:00

So Mocha deemed it fit to tag me and i was for some 8 seconds trying to think, what 8 things about me can i say, and what 8 things i definitely cannot reveal to the blogosphere. So i came up with my list - after revising it 8 times to weed out those "frank" points. Before we dwelve into my 8, here are the RULES:
1)WE HAVE TO POST THESE RULES BEFORE WE GIVE YOU THE FACTS.
2)PLAYERS START WITH 8 RANDOM FACTS/HABITS ABOUT THEMSELVES.
3)PEOPLE WHO ARE TAGGED NEED TO WRITE THEIR OWN BLOG AND THEIR 8 THINGS AND POST THESE.
4) AT THE END OF YOUR BLOG POST, YOU NEED TO CHOOSE 8 PEOPLE TO GET TAGGED AND LIST THEIR NAMES (Scared yet…..you better be!)
5)DON’T FORGET TO LEAVE THEM A COMMENT TELLING THEM THEY ARE TAGGED, AND TO READ YOUR BLOG

Now…..

Papier!!
i have an endless affinity to papers. Any type of papers, bond, classic, rough, pastel, embossed, artmatt, gloss, you get the idea. i can tell how any paper will react to ink, paint etc just from touching and looking at it. I wish i could do the same for the women i meet!

B.I.G.
i have an obsession with the Notorious BIG. I keep finding myself rapping his rhymes on my evening walks, at the traffic lights, at work! I think the jamaa was just too deadly in his lyrics and perspectives. If i could infuse abit of his influence to my poetry, that would be grand.

Organized is Relative
I am EXTREMELY sensitive about my stuff and where i put them. if i put the vase upside down, there's good reason for it, don't come and put it back up. Sometimes my place looks like Gaza but i know where every little item is. Someone trying to make it "neat" disturbs the whole mind map i have of the place.

Muziki
I love all kinds of music. Benga, hiphop, samba, jazz, dancefloor, crunk, groove, classical, soul, neosoul, r&b, zouk. i have dozens upon dozens of very varied music from all over the world and my playlist can randomly jump from BIG to Manu Chao to Pepe Kale. The only thing i can't stand? Rock.

Creativity
I have "creative" seasons where my idea sources peek and am on a roll in terms of work, social and every other thing i seem to do. This is from May til end July. Most of my poetry from way back revolves around these seasons. If there was a way to keep it in a jar and unleash it anytime i want, i'd pay handsomely to get it done.

Hauz by the Beach
I keep wishing that i had a beach house at the coast where every morning i'd rise up to the sashaying of the waves breaking and the sun rising from the horizon, run a mile or two in the breathtaking scenery and come back to a refreshing glass of pinacolada! Then i snap back into reality!

Rewind that
If i was given a choice of one project that i think i could have done better, it would been the Dedan Kimathi memorial. I could have first not even considered the horrible railings they've put round it, i could have made the lights something of an attraction and the statue itself would have stolen the show out of the entire Kimathi street. And trust me, out of the 4 million; i could have change left to get the City Council new contemporary railings to put round the city.

My Insignificance
Every time i fly i realize just how insignificant we are and the whole irony of how some people feel like they've fikad hits me. As the plane leaves the ground and things gradually become smaller to vanishing point, my ego does the same. I feel humbled looking at stretches and stretches of clouds and wonder, just how does God view us?

Ahem, now that i've done my 8, the following hawana bahati:
Elusive Serina
Altaego
Kipusa
Fadzter
Vee
Bank
Makanga
Last but not least……Akiey

Visions of WAPI & July Njevee!

2007-07-19T14:04:00.000+03:00

I don't know if I'll survive another 2 months in this Nairobbery city. Too many things are working to hasten my demise. Alot of these are uncontrollable. Cold, darkness, tremors, no-smoking zones! Still in the middle of this survival gig, am happy that atleast si mimi peke yangu going through these. Jana i was rushed out of a meeting in Anniversary towers coz "someone" mentioned "Earthquake!". The whole building was evacuated and most of us called it a day.

WAPI 13 (or Version 2.0) was this past sato and here are the pics. Juz a few pointers. The dark chic huku down, i LOVE that smile, shiiiiiish! If we were those days of films, i could waste a whole roll of 36 exposures on you! Now in my digital age, I think i spent 350mb of my 1 gig memory stick on her!

Secondly, the most bottom pic is the winning grafitti for the past wapi. The theme this time was "Visionaries" and i wasn't so impressed with the graf. What impressed me though was the Red Grafitti by Swift second last below, damn genius i tell you!

My boy alvin of Urbanphunk has been putting out really great streetgear, pip below.

Pic 7 is Pointblank blessing the mic and pic 9 is Bafu Chafu wooing the crowd. Pic 8, Essen representing the Can! Pic 6 is one of thse observations I have in the middle of chewing lock. The whiteboard advertising food is very badly written and am thinking, here's a forum of artists, graphic designers, graff artists you name it and one lousy looking board!

Nappies & Hard Kicks!

2007-07-18T09:57:00.000+03:00

This can happen only in Kenya. I've laughed my head off reading this article and thought it too amusing so am going ro reblog it here. Verbatim.

From BBC: Donkey owners in the Kenyan town of Limuru are up in arms over an order from the municipal authorities that their animals must wear nappies. The council said the measure would come into effect on 16 July to ensure the town's streets are kept clean. But recent press coverage and outrage from the town's residents has led the authorities to put their plans on hold. "If we have to put nappies on our donkeys, soon they will say our cows need them too," one donkey owner said.

Limuru's mayor, James Kuria, says: "We must come up with a way to make sure that the droppings are not a nuisance." Another donkey owner, Kimani Gathugu, who lives in the town some 50km north-west of the capital, Nairobi, says the measure is not practical and the council would do better to employ more street sweepers.

Noting the vital role played by donkeys in the community, he says: "Donkeys are very important. Not many people have cars in the area and the donkeys serve as a mode of transport."

Another resident, John Kinyanjui, says: "The council itself has workers. They can do the sweeping. We are paying taxes." Water trader Simon Kamau, who uses donkeys to transport water to his clients utters: "In all the three years I have been in this business, I have never tied a nappy on a donkey. "The problem is that the donkey can give you a fatal kick. I was once kicked by a donkey and it broke my leg. "What the council should do is come to us traders and show us how to tie the nappies on the donkeys," Mr Kamau says Mr Kuria though seems determined to push on with his plan. "I have heard that in some areas where they keep donkeys, they also have nappies," he said. "We will go to these areas and see how they do it and come back and show our people how to do it. We want the people to earn a living but at the same time we must keep our town clean."

End of article.

Now that's real life practicals for you. And kudos to our fat leaders for their "smart-ass" thinking! Yes, that's supposed to be sarcasm.

-------

photo courtesy of http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6902309.stm

The Perfect Marriage Proposal

2007-07-11T22:28:00.000+03:00

Kipusa, here's the answer....

Breakfast kwa hot air balloon on top of the Mara and as you both glide past the green expanse, she notices down there, her name. On a closer look, she realizes it’s written from a herd of white rhinos (am still thinking the execution of this) and the “Will You Marry Me?” is carved out of the green with dried thatch, Masai Morans at one of its four ends.

Rewind <<
Previous night. I had a night safari with her (not that kind) and exchanged love pleasantries at the edge of the turquoise pool reflecting the majestic Longonot on the surface of its ripples.

Back to Now

The balloon hovers over the question, your heart hovers over the response, hers hovers over the proposal. The ring hovers over the balloon burner, suspended in a helium love-shaped balloon with her name and yours printed on it. If she says no, it stays put. If she says yes, you pull the trigger on the side of the khaki edge and it deflates to release the ring down to where the two of you are standing. Waiting for it. With two glasses. And the longest (and highest) kiss you’ve ever had.

Pepo Kato Sio Kavu

2007-07-10T20:06:00.000+03:00

-Jibu la Shairi Pepo Kavu, na Serina-

Maneno yako daftarini yaliniteka
Karatasi kuligeuza fikra na fikra kuzigeuza moto
Mbona maisha kama pepo kavu?
Wala mie singenena kila pepo na mda wake
Sie mie nakujua utokapo?
Bali kama jibu lingekuwa hilo
Najua halingekutosha ng’we!

Sababu ikawa
Ulimwengu keshakufunza
Kuyawinda maneno matupu
Kuyachuja kutoka yale mazito
Lakini hisia vipi kuzikataa?
Kukosa na kutamani
Chanzo cha utesi wako

Kukosa mashauri yenye faida
Gumzo na furaha toka ndani
Ucheshi, mimi, wewe
Duh! Tukawa kama zamani!

Tukawa kama mawimbi baharini
Yakivuma na kutulia
Kupanda na kushuka
Nasi vivyo hivyo
Hisia na ndoto zetu
Kusafiri mpaka kutua
Zilazapo ufuoni

Nikwambie sasa
Ukavu huu si ukavu
Bali mfano tu kama vile ndoto
Ila ndoto zile zetu sio kavu

Japo wazo unakuteka na kukuhamasisha hivi
Basi ukavu utoke wapi?
Lakini hisia vipi kuzikataa?
Kukukosa na kukutamani
Sio ndoto mbali kiu utakao pozwa
Pindi wazo utakapotuteka
Na kutuacha pamoja ufuoni

Mwa Bahari La Penzi
Gumzo na furaha toka ndani
Ucheshi wako, utesi wangu
Duh! Tukawa kama zamani!

_________

COPYRIGHT MAZA LENJO 2007 ___

WAPI Pre-Anniv, Daily Dose of Design & Experiments in the Dark

2007-07-03T11:07:00.000+03:00

The last wapi happened to be number 12 and so the next one will mark the first anniversary since its inception. Personally, I think a lot has been accomplished at wapi but still a lot more needs to be done in terms of reaching out to underground artists. Specifically, the visual arts have been dwindling in the one year of wapi’s existence and on the surface it seems to be the hustling spirit of visual artists overriding the passion of “free-display”. To say it in other words, visual artists are more in tune with the financial rewards of ventures they get into and very few out there are willing to spend some hours out of their shilling-searching days to give back freely.

However, fashion has become a stronger expression at wapi as you’ll see from some of the photos and so has graffiti – this being the results of competitive challenges arranged by the event organizers. They need to do the same to the visual arts to boost participation coz there are some kick-ass designers out there who need such a forum.

This is the grafitti that stole the show at wapi - congrats to Esen (pic. down there with spraycans)

King Tutankhamun - the Great Pharaoh of Ancient Egypt - by Pointblank! Check out the resemblance with 50! Dude was black!

Nana Yaa Asantewaa - the Great Queen Mother of the Ashanti - by Pointblank!

Another beautiful African queen....

Lil' Superman!

Kiss FM is launching their new newspaper – The Nairobi Star, today. Having built a reputable brand from its radio station, I was expecting the same on the rollout of its premier paper, hence you can relate to my shock when they started advertising the paper using some logo – something that looked miles apart from what the Kiss brand is. Or what it should be. Frankly, it looks more gutter-pressish than anything I’ve seen in the media world. And let’s not forget, true the paper may contain serious content and great journalism pieces and it ain’t about the logo, but if your masthead speaks zilch, that’s a lot of credibility down the drain. Clean, good design has a critical function in marketing. It’s been proven hundreds of times; I thought the folks at Kiss would know this! Anyone at Kiss reading this, holla, I’ll do it for free! Alternatively, visit nytimes.com, thelondontimes.com to get an idea of where you compare!

Nani, even cute chics can graf it up!

Master graf artist Esen, spraying it up!

Nuru Bahati's ill art is something out of this world... and guess what he uses. Ballpoint pen. Bic nakuambia!

Wenyeji - the duo out of Ukoo Flani Mau Mau..... apparently there's alot of inside beef within the Ukoo and Pulse went as far as predicting an implosion with the different cliques that form the supergroup going their own separate ways..... Example Cannibal & Karama from the Coast outfit of Ukoo being termed as not part of the group, and on top of that, they split circa last month to "pursue individual dreams".

Lil' boy's first dombolo-ya-solo groove!

Finally, I’ve gotten totally accustomed to darkness. Next time I travel to kishagi, my granddad would be surprised that am not even asking for the pressure lamp to visit the latrine! Sitting in the dark for long is ideal for three things. The first reason is obvious. The 2nd is what someone called the Breakout principle, where you drain your brain off things you normally think of and in the emptiness that ensues, you get that pure idea breaking out. The third is what I’ve been doing. Playing and experimenting with the camera. Until recently, the flash used to work. Now that it doesn’t, I’ve been tweaking with ISO settings and trying to learn more than just the dial that you press to take the photo. Any lesson? After all that playing, blow out the candle….. the other day I slept on the job only to wake up with a bonfire on top of the cabinet next to the gas cylinder. God has ways to communicate! Am not even sure how I woke up, I just did, and faster than I used to in boarding school with the cane on my back!

Darkness na mimi

2007-06-25T11:52:00.000+03:00

Manze tangu I blogged let there be light, kumekuwa na darkness ingine ya kimataifa at my diggz. Am amazed vile nimesurvive mpaka nao. Candles zimekuwa piled up like I was expecting a tsunami and the only entertainment left is my neighbor’s battery-operated Sony (or is it SQNY) radio that croaks strange dombolo music in the late hours of the night when all my mind is thinking of is sweet sleep. Yes, i have a clean mind.

As if that isn’t enuff torture already, imagine coming home to a foodless and freaky cold joint. They need a Mc Donald's near my place, they'll harvest millions! Trying to cook in my house has been a tremendous challenge for me. I should put it in my cv as one of those insurmountable things. Any roaches up in here would have long migrated to the Dirty South even with the enticing promise of perpetual darkness. So anyway, my candles provide husky lighting and warmth before I can generate enuff of my own to last me a night between the sheets. And this june-july weather doesn't make it any easier.

Most of these times before sleep beckons, I sit in the dark, stare at the white screen in front of me flickering “toshiba warning - you should change your battery soon” before realizing its bedtime. Bedtime nowadays comes pretty early. Bedtime is when the laptop decides it has had enuff action for one night and goes off, most times unceremoniously leaving me to redo work I’d halfway finished - and illustrator/photoshop rework is nuts! So I too follow suit, unceremoniously going to sleep.

Then there’s the phone. Two short messages and its off. Nowadays am bila late-night phone sex (yes i wrote it!), bila the naughty messages streaming in, bila virtual goodnight kisses. If you thought the bilaz train was bad, try riding it without a phone! Then the morning comes and Mr. Ironbox gets tortured on the gas cooker. Yes, its called surviving in darkness. LG, life's good doesn't apply to this ironbox!

Anywhoooooooo, am glad to report that I think I’ve overcome my ambitions to really hurt the caretaker. I gathered am better off adapting to the situation. Still, I can’t dismiss that I’ll gladly and swiftly rush to the site if I heard he was getting a thrashing. Mind you, I’d do it even if it was just a rumor. That should brighten up my days kidogo!

-----

On other news, I rediscovered just how briliant Ice Cube was and still is - i got Westside Connections two albums, Bow Down and Terrorist Threats. Manze, trax are tite, been banging my head track after track. Talk about pure vinyl genius.

-----

I missed this past sato's Wapi, was head over with work and the slight monotony of the event didn't help - i sent a spy though, and am glad to say it turned out mzuri! Once i compress some of the images, i may upload them lakini i think kuna maboyz flani wataziupload before me, so check out kbw for that.

-----

Nairobi right now is cold! Freaking cold. Winterlike. Am having Java coffee, in a fortified sweater but my joints still freezing. Nani, i think times like this is when you realise being single is domeez!

Verbal Cookie Crumbs

2007-06-19T11:32:00.000+03:00

Hypothesis: I get a call from a chic I don’t know
Listening to: Shy Guy // Diana King
At: 2141hrs
With: Coffee, no cookies

The other day someone I was with got a call from a stranger. Happens every other day. What was strange (at least to me) about this situation is the fact that she continued talking to the stranger for another 10 or so minutes.

Now as a jamaa, it resonated with a funny side of me. I was transported to the other side of the line and started thinking how I would be laying out my words if I was being given verbal clues like they were being handed out by Santa himself.

At the end of the other line was a man who didn’t know this chic. But being exactly that – a strange man, he had all the ingredients of making a plot from nothing. Through her nearly naïve responses, he concocted a thread of stories to keep the conversation going – this being a man’s way of creating an opportunity from an almost insignificant and minute window.

I was dumbfounded coz she was still talking to him even after telling him that she doesn’t know him, she ain’t Grace, not Catherine nor the other two names he called her, that she doesn’t know a guy called Charles (which was supposedly his name) nor Jackson (he’s name after Charles was rejected). She was still inquiring him about who he is and I was thinking, wow, what opportunity! This here came with a silver platter and a serving spoon!

You better believe it, if any man was given a map laid out like that, he’d generate vibe like a fish laying eggs.

Like a party ribbon spray pressed hard.

Like a fluffy feather pillow burst open.

Only a percentage few of us would pass up that door. By few I mean those numbers that don’t appear in a normal census, those numbers rounded off to the nearest ten. Suffice to say, here was a chic on the other end, forget she’s a stranger, forget she just told you she doesn’t know anyone with all the 6 or 7 names you just came up with, forget all that. A dude will only cling to the fact that you were still on the line, talking. That’s a big fact – you can also forget what you were talking about, just keep moving your lips and the sliver of hope won’t fade from him.

If you still doubt the way a man’s hunting instinct switches on at the slim touch of trigger then consider those and the following facts. The guy on the other side knows well the chic is a stranger. That somehow isn’t a big deal anymore. He knows she just dumped his first few maneuvers at conversation, still it don’t matter. All that matters right then is she was still on the line. He whiffs at this slim opening from a voice miles away. For the man, this is an expression of interest.

An expression of interest ranges from her replying the “hi” to that near-smile she plays on her face as she looks your way. A second glance is a confirmation of interest. A stranger’s voice that keeps the faintest interested talk is a go-go!

Back to our little situation :– she keeps his hope alive coz she’s still asking him irrelevant questions – at least to him – instead of doing a simple “wrong number” drill and the story comes to closure. Instead it lasts for another 5 more minutes and ends in an agreement to continue the conversation - more like the questioning, later.

That overflows my dumbfounded-ness, I mean why couldn’t she just as well give him her real name, house, bank account numbers and a date with promise of marriage?

FYI - It's called Plagiarism!

2007-06-13T11:25:00.000+03:00

Plagiarism (from Latin plagiare "to kidnap") is the practice of claiming, or implying, original authorship or incorporating material from someone else's written or creative work, in whole or in part, into ones own without adequate acknowledgment.

Sometimes i ain't in the mood to follow up triavilities. Most times am not in the mood for creating beef where one doesn't exist. So the other day am skimming thru the KBW feed and come across a blog i wanted to read, click on it and when it opens, behold! There sitting pretty on the sidebar, one of my artworks. For a moment am kinda jazzed that the owner of this site thought it worthwhile to put that pic there - but am also slightly disturbed by the fact that they didn't acknowledge the source.

i write to him/her suggesting its good practise to do that. i write in the most understanding way possible (no lawsuit talk yet). i write coz as much as i'd like the acknowledgement for my work, i also like the appreciation of it. i tell him/her that the artwork can stay on, i've no beef with that, all they need to do is, yes.... you guessed right. Simple pointer.

then i get a comment in both my site and theirs. they're going to remove it, they are so very sorry, but comments like ".....LOOOOL am really sorry .... apparently am an online thief.... So today i'm using my blog as a tool to help promote marazzmatazz and ..." come across as unrealistically unapologetic as you can get.

i laugh too (tena loudly) ..... me? Need promoting? Where the hell did you get that idea from?

-------------

image courtesy of http://www.oldwestbrew.com/thief.gif

-------------

stuck

2007-06-12T17:21:00.000+03:00

stuck
in the middle of the days woes
not knowing if its forward or backward
i go
stuck
in the little meaningless exercises
of wanting to please someone
without
the thought of what it is i do
stuck
in the thoughts of what it is i do
without
understanding why i do them
stuck
in this cold
this heat
this moist dampened world
feeling like i need release
i need fresh star-kissed air

-------------

Marital Violence

2007-06-06T18:03:00.000+03:00

Whilst I was talking about the almost unrealistic nature of the marital violence case that was brought before a Kenyan court just a few days past, I did not mean it to come across as being insensitive to the poor woman - or to the fact that marital violence is real and out there, shuttering and sometimes claiming the lives of many a woman.

Within those thoughts, I was trying to comprehend what made that woman stay that long (24years) in an abusive environment, beget not one, not two, but three children with this foul man and still go as far as claiming that she had NEVER had consensual sex with him.

I needed to understand the meaning of "consensual" in this context. I needed to understand the meaning of "rape" as she views it and not as the women NGOs see it. I needed to understand the intricacies surrounding her life with this man, in this "marriage" if this is what we could call it anymore. I needed to understand where we demarcate "institutional rape" and "comical exploitation of the law" within a case such as this. Above all, I still need to understand all these things.

As much as this one case sheds some light on the plight of many women (and men) in abusive relationships, I reckon understanding such cases' matrices, metamorphosis and implications is what will in the long run change people's attitude towards marital violence and violence in general. Nothing changes if nothing changes.

Your thoughts please.

------

image courtesy of : http://survivorsbychoice.bravehost.com/purpleribbonani.gif

------

Sex Sales

2007-06-04T18:49:00.000+03:00

I’ve been toiling with the idea, the notion even the reality that sex sells. As to the idea itself, lets leave that for another forum, but as it were, I’ve concluded it’s true. An argument I heard sometime back that everything we seem to do revolves around sex sounded downright Freudian at that moment, but letting it vibrate in my mind for a little longer and it started making more sense. Of course that’s not to say we do it consciously, but we do it a lot!

Kiss FM’s new “ad” on Virgin Atlantic puts that perspective bluntly - “losing your virginity starts with a kiss”. I’d thoroughly argue against that – najua at least 4 other ways you could lose it without the kissing stage, but still, that simple one liner has created a lot of buzz in Nbo. If it was your kawaida airline advert, no one would have noticed. Insert (pun) some kidogo mojo spice huku it becomes almost award-winning.

The goodness of falling back into this kinda strategy for advertising is that you don’t need any market research blah, blah, blah yakedee shmakedee. Everyone relates to sex, and most of this everyone crowd love it. It’s like throwing a stone in Limuru and expecting it not to hit a kiuk. It’s why car dealerships use bare-chested models to sell when there’s no correlation whatsoever with that car and those juggz.

Which brings me back to this idea stroking my thoughts. It’s abit too early to unleash it but the foreplay in my mind is slowly building up…..

On other related views, this mama a few days ago sues her husband of 24 years and asks the court for a restraining order on him not to have sex with her. And not to come within 100 metres of her too. She says in the entire period they’ve been together (yes, you read right, 24 years), she has NEVER had consensual sex with him….. the jama just does his thing and maisha inaendelea. Dude, it took her 24 damn years to register what she calls “rape”? And yet they have 3 children? Would this be classified as institutional rape or a comical exploitation of the law? Granted, maybe for the longest while she couldn’t come out of it, lakini kuna vitu vingi in this case that don’t add up which makes me curious to see what turn it will take.

Exploring The Silence

2007-05-28T11:09:00.000+03:00

Kupakwa mafuta kwenye mgongo wa chupa.

Jamaz, I know you’d feel me on this.

Here’s the scenario. You’re with your chic on some function, actually, anywhere really. Let’s say somewhere in tao walking to the ma3s after an evening meet. Along the way, you bounce into some jama that knows her. Or she knows him.

You’re accosted by the kinda hug this other jama receives. You know, the one that sort of lingers a second longer than what you’re usually half-heartedly given. The one that seems kinda tighter than the light version you receive. And given from some distance. This one doesn’t leave any spaces in between, it’s wholesome. It also doesn’t leave any doubt that this here jama that you face with half-jealousy-half-envy, is someone your chic likes. Very much.

There is some strange wind blowing across your heart bringing with it some coldness you rarely felt. Yes, it nearly freezes you. Time sort of stands still for the while he’s smiling facing you, deeply clasped in the arms of your chic. He’s got that “got her” look in his eyes that only two jamaz can comprehend.

Eventually after what seems to be eons, she introduces the two of you. The intro is somewhat shallow from what you’d expect. Nothing is mentioned of “my jama”, just a rushed hush of your name and his. Rushed enough for you not to remember it when you take three steps from there. There’s that mutual head nod of jamaz acknowledging each other like adversaries granting each other respite for those few minutes before a duel. Then comes The Silence.

The Silence that suppresses every thought you have. No one says anything, but yet at that particular point in time, things come with a certain clarity that frightens. Images in front of you freeze and pixelate into little mono-chromed squares that stand out perfectly from each other. You see it, he sees it, she doesn’t.

Two or three seconds later, she breaks this silence with “So….”, little realizing that this conversation’s already concluded.

--------

alexcia, ur graf iko jikoni..... coming soon.

--------
image courtesy of: http://www.simplifiedsigns.org/stupid.jpg

Sweet Revenge, WAPI12 & Gender Diversions

2007-05-24T08:32:00.000+03:00

Yester evening I had myself one momentous evening when AC Milan finally got their revenge over the Reds. Liverfool fans in the club were so upbeat when they got the ka one score – ya kufuta machozi – but then after the final whistle, pity was their lot. Hiyo silver imefika Home!

This past weekend was the twelfth WAPI and the theme was De Uprising, against ethnic and political violence. The two pieces were among my four entries to the exhibit.

Sato was WAPI12 but this time, it turned out to be abit different. I couldn’t pin in on what, but I think the duo Cannibal and Sharama (Karama) had a lot to do with it. They literally lit up the stage with their Bouncing, Bouncing and Street Hustler jigz. It was a performance and a half. Plus walibeba kirende nzima ya Ukoo Flani the Mombasa version to Nai with them and yes, you guessed it. They too did their thang on that stage.

Sorry to say, mafans wa graff, the entries have become abit watered down. Graff at wapi is suffering abit from the departures of Phiks and my bro Hint coupled with some logistical (missing cans, not enuff cans) issues. However, this wapi still managed to produce one of the best graff I’ve seen in the City in the Sun for a looooooooong time, courtesy of Swift. One Blood was its title, superbly executed. Didge was there and gave a sampling of his next album.... bound to hit! Boy has talent. Liz put up a Fashion-for-Peace piece and it was superb. Great colours.

On other news, this jama (y’all must have heard) called into a local radio station to “reveal” how his wife thwacks him…… for things like not agreeing to carry her handbag in public. At first I thought, lame FM station joke, until it become clear it was for real. Now, now, now. Dude is bilaz ama? There was something about the entire hullabaloo that was made from this here minor, minute and insignificant event that bypassed my simple comprehension. Hell, am chauvinistic on how women cannot beat men, and vice versa (he,he,he) – this last addiction is for the feminists) but to bring it on radio like that’s a topic for discussion is just plain uncouth! Ok, ok, so we have to discuss domestic violence on women aaaaaaaaaaand men, but I say, that jama could have gone for counseling or something. Something like reorientation.

Back to wapi. This time there was a Mchongoano session. Sh#@ was hilarious! Ati you’re so dark mpaka shetani akikuona atasema “Jesus!”. Ati uko na nywele mob mpaka your whole body ni private part! Ati wewe ni mfupi mpaka unatumia shilingi kama tire! Ati wewe ni mfupi we ubembea kwa pavement!

The fotoz..... poleni am really bad with names so juz enjoy yourselves visually! The first person to tell me where this Lion is found within Nairobi gets a free graff of their name!

What do you say?

2007-05-21T14:34:00.000+03:00

Someone tell me what do you say when you’re speechless and yet have this burning desire to speak out. Words form and change and fade mentally, but they can’t seem to come to speech. You know exactly what you want to say but somehow communicating that becomes unachievable. So now, you find yourself stuck in between silence and deafening thoughts.

Someone tell me what do you say when you’re speechless and you know the only way out is to speak these words that you hold under lock and key inside. Be they the truth or some passing cloud, you know only too well that for you to find solace once more, they have to be released. Painstakingly you fight with those thoughts of whether or not to set them free, all the while remaining silent. All the while denying your very self.

Someone tell me what do you say when you’re speechless and it happens to be at the point of the conversation when your silence sounds the loudest. So loud it shatters and drowns the thoughts you’re having along with the words forming that you’ve been eager to let out. Washes them all away and you’re left barren, feeling numb and desolate. Feeling nothing. Thinking nothing. Doing nothing.

What do you say?

I’d say it’s the death of love.

---

on another note, WhoElse, thanx alot for the bday gift. one word. Awesome. Wish there was a way i could whisper it to you........

Let there be light

2007-05-12T13:58:00.000+03:00

Am halfway up the hill, my busy mind swiveling and doing rubik cube aerobics on some design problem I need to crack before the start of business tomorrow. Once the thought of how bad I need to solve this creative hitch hits my synapses, a myriad of worries is let loose.

You see for a continual period of time, actually ever since I came to this new house, electricity has been off and on. And not from me playing with the switch. Here I am with my choking laptop, eager to receive a boost of much needed charge to accomplish the by now very cultivated ideas am having. But in the struggle up this Mt. Everest-wanna-be, the thought that i‘ll get no lights at home seems to negate the very movement of my limbs. Climb, shove, limb move.

I realize how actually I’ve been thinking of this not-very-light light problem for some time now. It flashes in and out of my mind, playing neon flicker with other thoughts. Subtly but gritty, it’s predominant when I think work and home at the same time. Isn’t it amazing how something almost obvious can occupy the bulk of your thoughts and instead of concentrating on bigger, better things that matter, you are reduced to engage in its entertainment?

Am near the last few yards where the hill climaxes into a long stretch, my long home stretch. The stretch that makes me guzzle two glasses of juice the minute I hustle past my door into that crib, before I stretch lazily for a minute or two on the couch catching back my breath. In between the perspiration and wheezing, am silently whispering prayers and hopes that tonite, at least leo tu, huo mwangaza utakuwa. My processor is already on other trail of thoughts. If kutakuwa dark, do I even have any candles left? If I get no lights, that work will stall for another day. That client ain’t that understanding. And what happens to my credibility? Damn, I think I’ll lose the account. Shoot! If I lose that account, it’ll probably spoil my chances on the new contract coming up. If that fails through the cracks, May may turn out to be a very dry month. Financially. And to think I pay for electricity and it’s off on default. Stupid caretaker doesn’t even care. Sits around all day and when I get back in the evening to darkness, he’s aloof and acts like nothing’s wrong. Once he even told me it ain’t his problem. What nerve! I didn’t know whether to punch him silly till his lights go out, pour hot candle wax on his non-committal lax or laugh. Being of very short fuse at such inviting occasions, I did the latter and took a still long walk back to the hill while praying for patience. “God grant me patience for things I do not understand…and let the caretaker take care of what he says to me next time otherwise…”

But mostly urgently God, please let there be light today when I get home.

Playaz Gettin' Played

2007-04-26T11:32:00.000+03:00

Yes, am semi-officially back to blogging. When i get to see such juicy stories as the one in today's Nation newspaper, i can't help but holla!

Ati, listen to this, 50% of the genetic cases processed by the Government Chemist to ascertain whether mbuyu wako ni buda yako end up negative. In simple English, 50% of these men are not the biological daddies to these babies. And the tip of the iceberg, this is just from a sampling of 137 cases! Only!

Which means, vile majamaa we claim to be playaz huku mamaz are thoroughly playing us. Think about it, 50%??? Damn, that's alot of lies!

Then there's this story on the Standard, a sort of flip-coin to the Not-my-Daddy saga. Women who don't want kids and the myriad of reasons given to support their "unique" decision.

Am in awe of the dichotomy of Kenyan mamaz - Women who want kids, but not with you and Women who don't want kids. Period.

Writerz Bl*ck

2007-04-24T12:12:00.000+03:00

Now, now Mocha, you making it look bad. It's another teaser, i think i've quit for good. At times i feel like letting on some things, but most times am caught in the blankness of No Words land... to peruse my mind for an inch of lettering that may be laid in front of other eager minds, soul searching the depths of meanings to what i call my life. The C'Quel may bekam real sometime in the near future, maybe days, maybe weeks. But for now, burst!

.... let me be the 1st one to say Happi Bathday to you in advance! may the sweet music of warmth, affection and love, yes Love, fill your special day and the days that roll after that. Happi Bathday Mocha!

Eureka Moments

2007-04-23T16:03:00.000+03:00

In his excitement, Archimedes forgot himself and ran around the town, butt naked, shouting Eureka! Eureka!

Ever felt that you needed to share something you found incredibly insightful with someone? To have it off you and to have that high that comes from sharing? Those are the moments that drive me back to blogging. I keep getting them in the folding of my days and I keep wishing they’d be molding someone somewhere the same way they mold me.

And by that intent I get back to jot a few lines. This is the Marazzmatazz C’Quel, blogging from latitude 01.17S, longitude 36.48E.

On this sophomore journey we delve into poetry, art and the eureka moments in my life and of life.

Keep afloat!

a month later

2007-04-17T12:05:00.000+03:00

tempted

Ides of March

2007-03-15T12:49:00.000+03:00

******

ps: some of the links to the posts have been taken down already :(

******

On March 15, 2006 Marazzmatazz came to be and so began the 1 year blog project that was born out of a desire to share, to inspire, to confront, to engage and to reflect how I relate to others, them to me and issues that confound me daily.

Today, exactly one year later, this blog ceases to be.

In retrospect, it's been a great and worthwhile experience for me. It’s been one year of inspiration from so many people, each day for that one year. Not many people who landed on this little corner of my world completely comprehended the intricacy and intimacy in the posts and as a last token of appreciation, am going to walk you through the labyrinth that was Marazzmatazz.

It all began with the Debut on March 15, 2006.

Intending to create a design oriented blog to share my art and design works, but my expressionist side quickly had the better part of me. I penned Serenity in Truth and Letting Go, both relating to the romantic surgery i was going thru at that time. But depicted in poetic prose how love in my life shifts like dragonflies on flight. Slowly over a stretch of time, these posts intertwined into The Question of Hitchin' and if anyone could step up to the Marriage Vacancy, it meant they were fitted with most answers to the 21 Questions. I was ready for this new love. Date You seemed a natural start point.

Dream Come True, Another Dream Come True and We're On Fire explored issues of Letting Go and/or being patient in love. I soul searched when love didn't make sense no more. They eventually lead to the Complexities Series as i came to read the fine lines between situations i was in and began exploring their essence.

Then I found my forbidden love, Gbaby and thru her I burnt as fiercely as a supernova. She inspired GBaby, Gotta Be (Gb), Hikkies for Life, Mia Kwa Mia, mazalicias (to test her attachment), Brink of Your Love, Penzi Hili, Blak Cinderella, Niko Nawe, face the truth and Napagawa.

Yes, yes, so mazalicias! was a hoax; it’s a sample of what Photoshop can do! Arigi and Co. didn’t fall for this! This piece was duo-inspired by Gbaby and 5d.

This blog project was about exploring the truths that elude us daily. Truths like what really cut on 911. Am constantly trying hard to escape from this collective unconsciousness of media-orchastrated theatrics. Y’know, the CNNs, the Reuters. Is it real? What is real? What is truth? Do they matter? If they do, why? And to whom? I guess if you don’t try to sieve the truth from all this junk we are daily bombarded with, you’ll just be another dumb processor. Ati Saddam had WMDs……..
It was about questioning the things we absorb just from skimming the surface, like the Najivunia campaign. It was about absorbing the art and passions in my life, thru the Visual Poetic Weekends. It was about ripping words into lines into poetry.

It was about going back to square one when I thought I was taking some things for granted and so I let these thoughts in Little Things Mean Alot, Little Things Revisited get me back in track. You know the lessons taught to us by Boyz II Men. These two posts together with Romance for Dummies were inspired by my very special friend for the longest time, Tati.

There were many events in this blog, from WSF, to the countless WAPIs to the Concours, to the DCI. It was such fun exposing such going ons to y’all, I guess that’s one bit am gonna really miss. It felt kinda like reporting, kinda like educating.

Admittedly, Chase of the Ex was a below-the-belt at my ex. No regrets! It’s a climax of the blog project that revolved so much on the year me and her were faded most. From serenity in truth when it started to the chase of the ex, you'd think someone would learn a few. But would i be Bitter ama Betta?, maybe it ain't worth it, y’know? That maybe became a fact. And regardless of all these shit I went thru, I kept aiming Above the Rim. I learnt to let go, Press Delete and in between met Gb who blessed me with her mere presence. That post on ex might have been Uncouth, but when you've had enuff lemons and are waiting for the mango, you better be willing to face the truth, be real with yourself so that you can rebirth like the Phoenix. You’ve gotta live and learn (joe public!).

Aissa, my former Bosslady was a Princess Encounter and after she left, I wrote C'est La Vie. She’s one in a million. Word!

I used to think of past loves and why it seemed subsequent ones were becoming duller and duller and wrote Pixel Love of coz inspired by an old flame, R. And so are many other thoughts across the blog. I should have done a Swedish collabo with you!

Some dude I met on the way home one night inspired The Babel Tower Effect whilst he was busy conversing to me in Greek (yes literally) and I was responding in Sheng! We didn’t get anywhere!

In Case You Forgot was intended as a two-edged sword, depending on how you viewed it, it talked of love, but it was also about the glorious past of Islam.

SweetSoul was for my large-hearted and beautiful Aunt Mianda.

The Spider in the Complexities Series and Kwa Shina na Shida was for my Great Grandma.

Mocha! and the one and only Bartholomew/DJ Fisher/Muzungu! inspired Surfacescan. Whist i rediscovered DJ Fisher on Mocha!'s blog, it inspired Press Delete immediately after coz I related to what she was going thru during that time.

Ndesanjo, Akiey and Maitha inspired Vikongwe Vya Blogu! together with many mashairi across the blog. Representing Kiswahili to the fullest – msilale!

Kooko inspired Delectable and 911 : An Afterthought

Sue inspired Massage In a Bottle, teaser and co-wrote dream of you

Mshairi inspired Mshairi Holla! and her style infused into some of the poetry i write now.

Blessing in disguise and Constant State of Unfulfilled Desire were inspired by various unmentioned entities J.

The late Dedan Kimathi inspired 44 Years Later!!

Date You was inspired by Nyaiyaki - she didn't know, until a hint hit her.

Wangari and Wangari inspired Say What? and Unbloggable respectively.

Nur inspired Adrenalin

Ghetto Langu was inspired by Bongo Flava

Amina inspired Alpenglow.

All in all, there were many others who fuelled the blog project. Mo amin, Mr. Softcity, terri, nya, mbua, jq, Acolyte, msanii_xl, bankelele, mental. Thank you all.

A whole cycle of posts from Eight Cow Wife to We're On Fire had subtle but hinting connotations on my different relationships. If you’re curious, yes, the Dream Come True and so did the next Dream, albeit with a funky twist…haha!

After all, this project was Creative Expression with dozes of Reality. Something Mr. Softcity fuelled.

As for myself, its time to redirect my creative energies to other projects, so adios amigos!

Breaker, Breaker One, the GZA blogging out from Nairobi, Kenya. Keep it real y’all – and much Love!

Live, Learn, Love.

Marazzmatazz.
Ides of March, 2007

Poetic Visual Weekend V

2007-03-13T17:31:00.000+03:00

Hey All,

This weekend was a blast, i've never seen such raw talent burst out in the open in kenya as i did in this WAPI themed Haki. There was a freestyle rap battle between different MCs but the cut-throat one was Kama vs Ojijo and damn, talent isn't even the word. These two cats are on an entirely different level. Word!

Graff as usual was represented with Bankslave, Uhuru, Swift and Esien doing their thing. i was impressed by Swift's do this time round, he switched from can to brush and the results were outstanding.

The t-shirt designs have also escalated to a new level - dude came up with Biggie/Tupac/Akon shirts airbrushed! Perfection on a tee! It's like wearing original artwork! My boy Alvin of Urbanphunk is one blazing creative right now, his apprarel are one of the things i don't bargain while buying. Yes, that hot!

Also, since the ides of march is approaching fast, i thought i'd share some of my previous paintings out here, they are Sunbath, Solitude, African Elephant and Blak Beauty.

visualpoetic weekend out!

Complexities VI – Her v/s Her

2007-03-12T18:36:00.000+03:00

I don’t jua if any of you jamaz have landed into a situation such as this. Am sure some of you have. Tricky though.

You’re tight buddies with a mama. So tite infact you vybe like daily. She’d call on you, be on the phone until both your ears get hot. You’d call her and before you realize all the credit you put the same day kwishad.

Now there ain’t nothing going on between the two of you. Really. Its juz plain old friendship bordering on soul-mates. But to the outside eye, that’s not what it looks like; they can’t see you’re just friends.

The chic’s jama gets agitated by the mere mention of your name and your chic on the other divide feels “cheated” coz somehow there’s a level you connect with the other that you don’t with her.

Progressively, things get abit tangled up. You can feel the pressure from both sides. The other jama now wants to know what you’re about making daily rounds on his territory, and your chic now wants a clear indication if it’s her or her! Ides of March is approaching fast.

What do you do? Do you stay loyal to your friend (and its one of those soul-mates combinations) to the detriment of your relationship or you let go of it? What’s more, how do you start letting go? And can you let go even if this friendship is your relationship’s guiding light – y’know when things aren’t so rosy that side, your friend is the one who puts them back in perspective and makes the whole experience somewhat manageable?

Complexities V – The Twist: Does Trust Exist?

2007-03-07T14:30:00.000+03:00

The future diplomat, Spyce, Akiey and Agiasi, nice responses. However, there's still some ticking inside that trust that needs cleaning.

Hypothetical situation. You’re in a relationship, deeply in love, whatever you construe love to be. Yes, 3000ft deep you see. You can’t see, hear nor think of nothing else. Then one day she comes to you and pours the "am expecting" truth on you. Right there, you know that you've been a bad, bad boy but chances are 80% its yours. You know that 80/20 rule is applied everywhere!

Problem though is you can't keep shaking the myriads of 20% other possibilities. Your thoughts are spinning to all those tiny little messages she used to get from these other "entities", to the times you had beef and you split for like a month or more, to the moments when your trust got tested. They are all now weighing down on you.

She's still right there waiting for your reaction which admittedly is hard to fake and forever slow to come. You manage a "heeeeey, wow" in between thoughts of "...what was his name..." The tricky bit is that your reaction isn't half convincing and it shakes the very foundation of both your trusts.

Remember those Powers of Men quotes? .... A man has the power to make a woman feel like a woman and the turn around and make her wish she wasn't born? Or a man has the power to make a woman feel loved, appreciated beyond and yet turn around and make her feel rejected and torn.....

If you were the mama, tell me, where does it go from here?

Complexities IV – Does Trust Exist?

2007-03-06T13:38:00.000+03:00

Hypothetical situation. You’re in a relationship, deeply in love, whatever you construe love to be. Yes, 3000ft deep you see. You can’t see, hear nor think of nothing else. She comes to you one day and says she thinks she’s about to become a mother. You heard right, coz your head spins, a mother to whom? Did she say think? How is it possible? From where? You are lost in questions and as they progress, a clear trail of doubt(s) begins to emerge. You think of all those moments and still wonder how it could be. You have even forgotten she’s staring blankly at you waiting for whatever people wait for at moments like this. Approval, joviality, caution, or the worst, rejection. She even mentions it’s you, but you didn’t hear that bit…or you chose not to hear it.

Now jamaz, put yourself in such a predicament (at least it would be if it happened to me). What would you say as your reacting words? Or how would you react to such a bold and finalizing statement, “It’s You”. And mamaz, if it was you saying that to a jamaa, how would you be expecting him to react? I might be wrong but I reckon the majority of you will be expecting approval in terms of joy, some form of support. Well, educate me!

I ask ‘coz I thought about it and concluded if I was caught in such a situation, then it would be the most single defining moment of my relationship’s trust. And depending on how we both handle it......

Date You

2007-02-23T15:58:00.000+03:00

Now that you want a date, someone to change the tone and taste, of things you’ve been doing, people you’ve been seeing, thoughts you’ve been having//
Yeah, am thinking I can be in all your plans, all your dreams I’ll cram, all your fav things I’ll learn//
And then shine them back to you like this naked sun//
Intensely drape them in nothing, but pampering and sweet nothings//
Yet, if you take this step, and I take the next, who knows might become something//
And make it worth your while, in style, am sure to bring the glow back into your smile//
Keep it there for the longest while//
Its inside there, just faded with the love well gone drier//

In between love lines you‘ll be searching for clues//

When you explore the possibilities, half a chance to tackle you, make the glow in your adorable eyes sparkle, become your heart’s call, you’ll take this chance//
And get it rolling, after all it’s just a date, maybe just this once//
Nurture it to become something you’d be feeling, the commonness antidote//
Not like anything you ever thought to sort//
After that we proceed to//

Dazzling you, lay back, let me adorn your thoughts with fact, your desires with tact, anticipation//
And wrap your hopes with exact, expectation//
Then pour passion like our red dinner candle dripping wax, exhilaration//
Embody the way you wanna be treated, shower you in relaxed, adoration//

Yearn for little things that give me an edge over the rest//
Outwit them till you fall through the stars straight into my arms//
Until you have no doubt to date you I should be the one.

44 Years Later!

2007-02-19T17:21:00.000+03:00

It’s a crying shame and an unfortunate sarcasm that we are finally able to recognize Kenya’s foremost freedom fighters after 44 years. Moreover, just one – Field Marshall Dedan Kimathi Wachiuri. Whatever happened to all the rest who fought alongside and under his marshal? Don’t they deserve some kind of honorary acknowledgment too? Tumewacha mbachao kwa msala upitao, tusishtuke tutakapo ambulia patupu!

It’s a crying shame and an unfortunate sarcasm that when we purport to celebrate the essence of this inauguration which is FREEDOM, we are muffled by formalities that stifle that very freedom. I was arrested taking photos of the monumental launch! My crime was taking the damn photos!!!!!!! 44 years after our so-called independence, ordinary Kenyans cannot take fu@#%$ ordinary photos in public?! And at that of their freedom protagonists! Yet they keep telling us to shout “Najivunia kuwa Mkenya”! Utajuvunia vipi kama huru chache hizi huna?

It’s a crying shame and an unfortunate sarcasm that not only was this recognition long, long overdue, but also the audacity that such an occasion can be used to dampen the liberties that these great women and men fought for is outright appalling! Kuna sababu wanaiitwa Mashujaa wa Uhuru!

It’s a crying shame and an unfortunate sarcasm that our leaders are still living in the analog days where owning a camera meant you had a studio! Hallo! Camphones, camcorders and camera-ipod-phones are the jargon of this generation that you are blindly leading! That means a photo is a by-the-way-fu#%$^&*-stick-your-middle-finger-out snap! We need ask rights for that? Hawa wazee wamechoka, sioni hata Energizer ikiwasaidia!

At this rate, I think it should be around 2051 when we come round to appreciating the efforts of the revolutionaries of our time - Githogo et al. Damn! So analog-minded, no wonder they just can’t comprehend how the taped messages were done! Huku wakisema wakenya tuna uhuru kushinda hapo kitambo? Can you define uhuru?????????? What we have is In-Dependence.

So at the end of it all, i managed only the photo above, maybe appropriate. Freedom hidden in some patriotic false cover!

Mshairi Holla!

2007-02-12T10:49:00.000+03:00

mshairi! been trying to upload my comments on your site but alas! you've had some incredible poetry and i have been feeling the posts but it bugs that i can't comment - some technical hitches! the post you have currently is equally impressive, its great you holla on graff art! inspiring to say the least ...... i hope this uploads, and more importantly, that you see it!

And the poem i promised you looooooooooooooooooooong ago, almost to the point when we transcribed our emotions on cave walls to stand the pages of ages.

Mshairi

loved the smile word playing poet

her lines drifted me to that duet

in quiet basement siestas

in solitude where i thought

daydreamed and internalised

her smile

her play on unspoken words

flood my mind with blind infatuation

her style

her say on unsung ballads

Complexities III - The Spider

2007-02-07T14:35:00.000+03:00

This life is like a spider’s web. The flimsiest of all that you can fall back on, yet to the owner, seems so strong and so dependable. Our claim to this fleeting space is filled with nothingness, yet we seem to cling onto it like it was eternity itself. We ourselves are the epicenter of this desolation and selfishness ensuring that everything else revolves around us. Anything that comes into our radii of clout, we quickly squash, chase away or simply stifle with our egocentrism. Yet, in a swift swing of time, the web we so painstakingly and intricately weaved and then called it our life is hurled into nothingness, the empty spaces it leaves behind inherited by others doomed to counter the same fate. Wind-blown, discarded and isolated, we learn only too late how we could have been so much better, so much fuller. We learn to love and to shower caring to vacuity when these things matter no more.

We just lowered my Great grandmother to her grave and whilst others thought of it as her final resting place, I thought of it as the beginning of her epic journey. A journey to eternal bliss. Great wasn’t just her title for being a third generation from me. Great was her title for the way she lived her life and when it mattered most, how she swung with the wind. She had unlocked the secret to life, effectively making everything in nature subservient to her needs. Great were her ways that flowed in my grandmother and my mother and onto all of us who claimed her as the root. I could feel the oneness like branches of giant Baobabs feel their bulk stump. Great was her journey just beginning and great was the loss we just bore.

Great lessons are being taught everyday around us but it seems little sinks in. We have become hardened by the silver tubes in our homes continuously splashing images of negativity. Africa weeps, Iraqis die and these sequential persuasions feed our souls, stripping away our humanity. I mistrust all the talk about solving these problems while they only seem to spill over. I desperately hold the hope that I myself have not passed that point of being bereft of any form of erudition. Everyday, men are being snatched away from all around us, to a sanctuary secure, where the living cannot penetrate and still we cast doubts to meeting the Great One. Deluded by worldly enjoyment, we’d rather keep this one eye closed to these truths and the other on our amusements. Hypnotized in this state of distraction, our appointed term reaches us effortlessly, plucking our feeble web. If there was only one lesson sufficient for men to learn from, it would have to be death.

All these thoughts came flooding when as we lay wreathes of flowers on her grave, a spotless white spider crawled unnoticed from underneath one of the large leaves and disappeared under another. I thought to myself what a parable. The spider in her own world believes her web to be secure and indomitable. But all it takes is a baby’s waft to destroy it. Have you ever thought how God views our world?

100th Post - Yeah Baby!

2007-01-26T16:15:00.000+03:00

Man, though its been a long time coming, i can't believe this is actually my 100th post! Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Najipongeza!

my original 100th post was hijacked at the WSF yesterday so i'll call this my 100th post part I! i decided rather than bashing the forum for what i consider to be NGOism laid-back-no-actionism, i'd go to the venue (this time uhuru park) nijionee kile hawa watu wote walikusanyika kwayo. a stone-throw from my place, i got there in the middle of the raining sun, hottest at its peak. impressive, there were like several thousand jamaz braving the heat to listen, demo and chat. Niliwasili just in time for nobel laureate Wangari Maathai's speech and went ahead to take a few snaps courtesy of the podium access from my man Blaze. this woman is phenomenal, standing there, saying such simple words but whose meaning sink to the depth of your humanity and you suddenly feel the rush to stand up and do something!

i talked WSF with a few people and some wreckon it might fade off into some social jamboree gathering of some kind, whilst others truly believe in its ability to change and shape social policies. am kinda in betwixt the two sentiments. there is some impact that has been derived from the WSF, notably the voice that has gotten to the (near) cancellation of third world debts, boycotting of slope-sided economic agreements etc, yet some of the major issues like poverty, sanitation, corruption seem unabated. to my surprise, i imagined the WSF to have been "the place to be" for all the "bonos" trying to do something about the world's social ills. the absence couldn't be more deafening. all in all, there was a cauldron of great people there and i managed kujiingiza miongoni mwao, felt different - among them my fav Bongoflava artist Prof J, Danny Glover (in yellow), Kenneth Kaunda, Soul Force, Eric Wainaina, Nyota Ndogo and the list went on and on.

someone argued we don't need celebrities to have a meaningul WSF, but i think it could do with the high profile PR. i mean, don't we see all these social events they appear in making the needed impact? ok, forget about madonna and the adoption, am talking nas "i know i can".

WSF, WAPI 8 & Other Stories

2007-01-23T11:43:00.000+03:00

The World Social Forum started in Nairobi on Sato, 20^th and thousands of colourful activists were everywhere wamebeba mabango with different social messages. Each group had their own focus area, albeit some seeming opposing. The sight of hundreds of participants at Uhuru Park for the opening ceremony brought back memories of the “Make Poverty History” campaign with the Live 8 concert at its culmination. Anyone remember what happened to the “promises” made on that? If you ask me, things in Africa seem worse than when they held that much-publicized event. I wonder whether they question if they made anything history apart from the memory of the event!

So I beg the question, do these forums live up to their billing? The WSF has been around for what? 6 years? Feel any influence yet? If this was a competition; which it should be, for the benefit of peasants across the world, the World Economic Forum (WEF) on the other divide could have long taken the cup home. It seems to have all the clout (and muscle) to bulldoze its agendas on every government on earth. So instead of having something on the table to eat, debts and slope-sided economic agreements are shoved down our throats. And we say money ain’t everything. Moreover, when the WSF has over a thao concurrent events focusing on diverse (often divergent) issues, within a space of 4 days, how the hell do we expect a unified voice on resolutions discussed there?

Funny that all these social-focused organizations engage in multi-million dollar campaigns with little of the messages hitting home. Doesn’t it make more sense to go to some village in the middle of Rachuonyo and just dish out the money, built some latrines, buy the residents scones or dentures, do something! Make a difference, not just clamor about it!

The 20^th was also the date for the 8^th WAPI dubbed Mwananchi, gathering together underground artists, poets etc to display and perform. I had 3 artworks to showcase this time round and as the theme determined, they had to be all political. Because I have little to write about this time round, I’ll let the images do the talking.

On other news, this past week I rediscovered an important lesson. If you don’t jua where a jamaa is coming from, why the hell would you let them lead you where they are going? I don’t know if it’s the tv’s or people are just becoming overly wanna-be’s. I can’t think of a scenario where am caught up in an act that deep down am not even feeling just to “flow with the clique”. Get your own road and follow it! Tafuta barabara yako na uifuate!

Lastly, I decided to continue the “Complexities” series from my next blog so watch out for that – it’s a self-reflecting look at complex stuff that make up my life and the unspoken and unwritten resolutions to resolve them. Not to mention that will be my 100th post!

Protecting the Police

2007-01-15T16:02:00.000+03:00

I tell you if you're kenyan, everyday is a comedy. The politicians are maddening like the 7 in the year was an aphrodisiac and everywhere you look, people are engrossed in ........ i don't know what. They are just engrossed.

So the other day, these 5o who escort cream to the banks decided to down their tools. They wanted "better protection". A serious matter that is almost laughable. Police wanting protection!

Ngai! If cops want protection, what would we ask for? Only God can help us now.

They want protection from the automatic-revolver-totting gangsters who by every raid become bolder and bolder. Them - the 50, are stuck with rifles that you need to cock before it realises there's a bullet inside. And so begging the question where does all the tax money we pay go to? Clearly not security. Neither can we say its roads, we have potholes huge enuff to be called craters. We can't say health either, you only need to ask how many hospitals we have to realize that. Can't the gov't get better equipment for the police force? The irony with this situation is that, among the things they escort is the taxpayer's cash to the banks from KRA! And we wonder why robberies increase...

Now, am thinking, so who would protect the police? Private security firms?...........

Constant State of Unfulfilled Desire

2007-01-11T14:21:00.000+03:00

Someone once quipped a new year with a new job don’t go. They never met me.

So I quit my job last December for various reasons. It felt like the right time to move on. It had become this one gigantic monotonous bore and the fact that there was zilch job security made it not quite the ideal environ to work for nor the ideal job to keep. Then there was the inner voices enticing me to jump into fresh waters and make something out of working – besides the mid-morning coffee and the free broadband internet! Thus, I quit to pursue that dream. The dream of fun, contentment and self-discovery, regardless of time. Year in, year out.

Pursuing your individual dream is not an easy thing to do. You’ve got all these bunch of negative people haranguing you on the bad choice you’ll be making, that you should be comfortable with what you’re getting at the end of every month. What happens if you’re really not comfortable with that? Most of them want more out of life too but are just afraid to step up to the open stage. Most of us want to be able to say “I LOVE my job”, “Am doing exactly what I want and love every bit of it”. But how many say that? Could we even if we wanted to? Could we dream of saying it sometime, maybe this year, maybe next?

Then there’s the obstacles (read challenges) that you face trying to pursue what you love doing. More often, they deter you from realizing your dreams. But the most precious diamonds are made from the most intense pressure. So, keep pushing, year in, year out.

Most of us are blinded by populist thoughts and can hardly dare peep outside our cozy little boxes. We get caught in the cookie-cutter profiles of what others expect of us. We desperately desire happiness & contentment and search these in material things without realizing that the newest Sony Ericcson or the 4Gb ipod won’t give us that. Every month, there’s a new colorful catalogue churned out to fuel our desires of happiness. Soon we realize we need another item and yet another to make us feel whole, all the while we remain incomplete. Year in, year out.

I’ve taken the first step to becoming complete. I’ve envisioned what I want to be and stepped forward to meet it and be shaped by its lessons. And that’s nothing like the feeling of contentment with thyself.

In short, you better get your act right this year!

Shout out to all my blogmates, Fanyeni Mambo!

breaky na shukrani

2006-12-08T12:29:00.000+03:00

blogging can be a very tempting thing. so i learnt after getting into the blogosphere in march this year. it's been a great 9 or so months.

who remembers breaktime in primo and seko? those were anticipated moments, many were times i daydreamed about how i'll devour that "maembe ya pilipili" during breaky instead of listening to some equation formula sh@#!

this is like that time, i wanna delve into other things, holiday, bikini-watching (oops!), checking out the oceanic scenery (some say sinnery) and chill out till whenever. a well deserved break if i must say so myself.

i just left my current job and it feels stupendous! the freedom is refreshing. i feel rejuved even before i start my holiday! talk about change of scenery.... so my advice to all y'all, when that work ain't doing it for you no more, step! visualize the doors opening up for you and not concentrate on the ones closing. there's a blessing in disguise in every twist. believe it!

shout out to all the peeps who've made my blogging this year a worthwhile xp. am going to violate your rights to get links but am doing this while sipping pinacolada and the breeze can't let me search each n every link so bear with m. for those i'd forget, it's the sinnery but you know i've still got mad lav for you!

nu mocha, ndesanjo, akiey, miriam, aco, muki, serina, little ash, mwangi, mloyi, Czar100, whoelse?, ma anon kibao!, tati, kasakwa, a., kipusa, nas, sasha, kenyanchick, shiro, makanga, vagabond, dobvious, mshairi, potash, genkigirl, bankelele, msanii_xl, kenyanpundit, alexcia, magaidi, maitha, scarla, poet mutiso, prousette, mental, ostalgia, egm, uaridi, ak, 69m, jadekitten, jp, supreme g.r.e.a.m, half and half, princess, bomseh, unyc, pesa tu, vee, afrom, proud nyeuthi, tezza and last but certainly not least bigwig.

super thenx for making Great things happen this year, my boy Jhabali always standing by my side, fady, ashi, timo, maj, British Council especially Eva and Buddha Blaze, saluoch, my bro HINT for the BC hookup and pentamony.

thanks for all your comments and flares that still burn me towards my supernova journey.

and to gbaby, regardless of the paths we take, i pray to God, yours glorious & easy to make, coz i try to shake off the thots but its nothing i can ever fake.

peace out, cheers and great hols!

Kwa Shina na Shida

2006-11-28T10:10:00.000+03:00

Sijui katika kiswahili tunamwitaje mama wa mama wa mama, au kwa vingine nyanya wa mama yangu. labda itakuwa bii mkubwa - lakini sioni. labda nyanya mkubwa? nitawachia wenzangu waliokita katika lugha kunifahamisha.

juzi basi, nyanya wa mama yangu alipatwa na jeraha kutokana na kuanguka toka juu kitandani mpaka sakafuni. akapelekwa hospitalini ili kuchunguzwa na kupata tiba. sote tukawa tunampitia kumjulia hali na ilipokuwa desturi yake, tukacheka na kutaniana kwenye wodi utadhani hakuwa mgonjwa!

nilipotoka huko, nilifikiria sana. fikira zenyewe ziligonga kuwa yeye ndiye shina la familia yetu na alivyotoka mbali, hatuna budi kumshukuru Mola kumfikisha mpaka alipo. Isitoshe, wengu wetu hatukupata fursa ya kuwaona wazee wa wazazi wetu, hivi mimi najihesabu kubarikiwa sana kumwona nyanya wa mama! isitoshe tena, tukaweza kukaa chini na kuwa na mazungumzo ya maana, akinipa ujasiri na ufahamu wa mambo.

kisha nikawaza sisi tulivyo na watoto wetu wanavyolelewa. Kama huku si shida, basi sijui nilitamkie neno gani. Watoto waliolelewa na runinga na "mobiles". Wasiojua tofauti katika umri na heshima. Naweza kuendelea lakini sote katika jamii tunajionea.

Nikafikia kuwaza, yaani sisi katika shida na balaa zote hizi tutaweza kukaribia au hata kufikia vyegezo waliofika wazazi wetu. Au babu zetu?

Is Wapi Going Anywhere? A Response

2006-11-22T12:42:00.000+03:00

As I read Mbaratho’s version of what WAPI is, what the neo-poets and artists that flock it are or have become, the thin yet very loud trail of skepticism in this entire article just couldn’t escape me. Comparisons with greats Okot p’Bitek and Taban lo Liyong are splattered everywhere. My frail understanding begs the question why?

I ask why because it shakes the very cornerstone of my interpretation of what WAPI is. And most importantly where it’s going. Where its going in terms of the influence it will have on these “rebel-soldiers-look-alike-sweaty-gum-chewing-rough-rap-loving with dreadlocks Mau Mau wannabe’s”.

Forgive me for (maybe) extrapolating the description of how these artists are viewed by Mbaratho, but the article has litters of extrapolated overtures of what they are, or aren’t and am left wondering, who is s(he) to judge? Can’t they be hip-hoping, Sean John clad sagging their extra baggy jeans and still contribute to a cultural reawakening? Can’t they because of their outer look and disposition have a say on the societal issues that affect them? Must they be “mainstream”, cultivated in the words of Soyinka, Okot or Shakespeare, refined with the strokes of Rembrandt, Pablo or Maasai paintings to be culturally relevant?

What WAPI is in my view is simple. It’s a forum for underground artists to express themselves. Artists of any persuasion. Artists who are NOT mainstream. And what is mainstream anyway – actually obliterate that word. Artists who are not mainstream or are mainstream, the whole bunch, mixed together into a cauldron of creative space. So in the midst of this “…splatter (of) unintelligible paint on the wall of a parking lot”, they might discover the next graf king. In this process of doing “…everything and anything with everything and anything to achieve nothing”, they might just discover themselves and maybe by a stroke of luck, achieve something!

Where is WAPI going? I’d rather look at it this way. What would the artists involved in WAPI get out of it? In my opinion an awful lot. They come from different walks of life, quite contrary to the generalization that Mbaratho paints in his/her article. They come with one vision in mind, to share their talent, their passion. To get inspired by interacting with like-minded and not-so-like-minded individuals. They come to watch others up their game and get motivated to reach that height too. They come to find a creative outlet that dissolves the troubles that confound them as youth, if only once a monthly Saturday. They come to be given that chance to pursue their dreams, whatever they may be. And ultimately they come to have an opportunity to discuss, express and voice their opinions on anything and everything they feel and experience.

So rewind, where is WAPI going? Only the artists who have found a voice through WAPI will answer that question. In a few days, weeks, years when those activities they were hauling right in the middle of the British Council parking lot come full circle and they touch their triple beam dreams, they will tell you where it all began.

Visual Poetic Weekend IV

2006-11-13T10:36:00.000+03:00

slumvillage

I thought i'd compare slum life and basketball. Vile naishi maisha yangu kwa hizi slums, utadhani life ili slam dunk on my face. Dreaming of making out of these playoffs za mangeta na kangeta na kunyeta.....

This was one of my exhibitions at the 6th WAPI this weekend, the theme being "Slum Village". We were out there to take a critical look at the slum life (and one of my pieces was too radical to get any air play... and i shall refrain from displaying it here - case in point, the recent Mathare violence). Anywaaaaaaaaaaay, we were also there to celebrate the slums and people who against all odds came up from there! Diego Maradona, Mandela, Hip Hop Founding Fathers.

Uhuru killed it this time.... i think he's more creative with a furahi-day hangie! The graf officiel screaming "Slum Villa!"

Bankslave as usual made the compe seem faded. His wax here "Kibera" and crowning himself (which he deserves). Check out the dark terror gripping the slums.

And yes, this time, BC was a full hauz! It rained, then it shone. Yet, they came.

Aaaaaah, camera slipped. Oops!

My dude Pointblank had me envious. His piece "Revolution" just says it all and he says when he/she comes from the ghetto, that future leader, he/she has my vote. No Question. Am with that!

More graf wax. Feel the ease flow jo!

And more. Phiks fixed himself on the concrete! Hatucheki na wadiiiiiiii!

The other dude acheki na watu is Ill Art Squad, jamaa uses the wall like a canvas!

Our very mobile Choo. Ujipate ndani na imetoka!

Yes, going to whatever lengths to do it.

Simba wa Yuda fully represented.

Watu Kibao kila mtu na pose yake!

I'll let you decipher what that is. 1st to get it right gets a graf of her/his name done right here. Free.

The temperature rose, and rose and the umbrellas became shades.

Bila fashion show ingekuwaje? Though kuna vile i couldn't understand tangu lini gunia imekuwa fashion??? Ladies, help me out.... as to the point of wearing anything???? It was all good though, flowed vilivyo.

the end.

credit galore

2006-10-30T12:27:00.000+03:00

---

if people were just able to be content with what they have, without resorting to such crazy lengths to acquire what they don't, i think life would be a more beautiful experience. Of coz am not saying you can't have dreamz and aggressively pursue them, but wherever point you are in life, you can't be at any other point - it's a purposeful stage in your timeline and so instead of agonizing on where you should be, analyze where you are. Here's where you make lemonade coz life handed you lemons and so there's no point wishing they were mangoz!

but people would always be discontented. That's why they invented credit for such masses. And from the look of things, quite a multitude has fallen to its clutches. Someone i know learnt this lesson in a rather crude and rude way.

the jama agrees to sign up as a guarantor for an acquaintance.... yea, it's that interesting. The acq was getting himself one of these damn good-looking suave LG fridges that come with preset temperatures for everything under the moon. And to add to it, since the Premier was just about to kick off, the guy thought for good measure (and viewing) he'd also get a new color tv. Flatron.

now that wasn't wrong at all, he was entitled to these finer things in life... as we are constantly told by the bikini-clad chics on ads. But the beef i have is when you go for such things and know dam well, you can't pay for them! Not to mention, you can't pay for them although you're paying in installments. They tell you it's easier, in your mind you think its easier and your salo can handle but little do you realize its much more costly at the end. Not to mention also, you abscond payments and so my friend (the guarantor) was the ultimate guy to pay up or get locked up!

i mean, its funny yet sad. Why would i get into such shitty situations for someone i hardly know, whilst maybe i don't even have that kinda fridge or tv myself? Guarantor indeed!

And why would anyone for that matter want to buy stuff on credit if they know it’s out of their purchasing power? Living beyond your means is like kushindana na ndovu kunya/competing shitting with an elephant! You're bound to lose and look stupid in the process.

Uncouth

2006-10-17T10:26:00.000+03:00

***
***

First all, it'll be uncouth of me not giving dedicated Bongoflava fans like myself this goldmine of a youtube link, it's all here!! - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KjwV-cActa8

So the other day after vehemently and verbally protesting how some people lacked basic manners, my boss put up a sign on his office door thus "Please knock before entering and close the door behind you". This all in a spirit of "open door policy" that was his mantra. And then he tells me,"some people are just outrightly uncouth, walking into people's offices like it was a soko!" Now, the word uncouth caught my ears and took me back to high skul where one odijo used it like a vowel.

I pondered over his statement and couldn't help but partially (80%) agree with him.

The first of many uncouth things i come across happens almost like every morning on my way to jobo. On the way i have to pass this semi-dark kichochoro that cuts my trek there by like half. However, the things you sometimes witness in this short section can make a 12 year old go berserk. I mean, it's just plain uncouth to throw away trust kondomus right in front of the path people walk every morning. Jamaz don't even have the courtesy to wrap them in some very dark black paperbag before disposal!

Then there's the incident i found myself in some many many many years past. i fell for two sisters at the same time. not simultaneously, but you get my drift. now, i don't want to divulge further info detrimental to my life but i learnt it's quite uncouth to date two sisters concurrently.

I’ve seen several discourses on some blogs about the rude and abrasive airing we receive nowadays from these local radio joints. I mean, am in a ma3 sat next to a woman old enuff to be my mum’s elder brother's wife and the radio squeaks a discussion on “What’s the best position he ever did it? How many times do you have “ma rubbings” in a week?........” and so forth. Am so embarrassed, my sony ericcson phone is taking the full brunt of my awkwardness.

It’s uncouth to lead someone on. Really. And also to go clubbin’ without thinkin’ how you gonna buy your own drinks, let alone enter the club. And in the process, inconveniencing every other person you’re rollin’ with.

It’s uncouth to come from clubbin’ and knock at my door 3am in the dead of darkness asking if you can crush away the rest of the night. And you’re accompanied by a chic!

They say it’s global warming effects that chics nowadays dress lightly. But it’s outright uncouth to walk around the streets with more than a sliver of your g-string stickin’ out of there like it was suffocating!

It’s so uncouth to climb the cistern of a public toilet and leaving your safari boot prints on the once speckless white ceramic.

Business deals. My, my, my, here, you get the mothers of all uncouths! Where I come from, it’s uncouth and unbecoming to recruit some naïve jamaz into your get-rich-quick-or-die-trying certificate-selling-pyramidal schemes when you know damn well that s!#% don’t work.

Or hire jamaz when you know very well the company's winding up biz in a few short months.

Which also means it’s very uncouth selling a piece of super polished sprite bottle purporting it to be green granite!

Aaaaaaaaand, its uncouth to charge me 20 bob when I enter a ma3 and the next jama that gets in gets to pay 10! It won’t be considered uncouth if it was the other way round though.

It’s ill-mannered to try and bribe a police officer. In front of the other passengers. At least do it in the back of the Nissan where the purple tint of the windows covers the transaction.

It’s uncouth to hop around from one fad to another just coz everyone else is doing it. I mean, do you have to join the gym and do “step aerobics” coz the rest of your girl crew is rolling that way? Get a punching bag for your room!

Last but not the least of uncouth happenings out here, when someone opens up their heart to you, its uncouth not to respond. Even at least negatively!

So, tell me, what’s the most uncouth thing you ever came across?

Mo Fotoz

2006-10-11T11:08:00.000+03:00

***

Due to great public demand (chuckle...), makanga this one's for you. More evidence of my activities during the weekend. Ji enjoy!

some of the paintings i displayed at the Prince Edwards meet-up.

just love her tatoo...

the message is clear. now only to convince bush/joji kichaka

graf artist working his dalmatian magic

part of the above graf with a robo-matatu theme

the tools of the trade

more tools- this sprayer is old but it still performs

jamaz are doing their own tees nowadays. Hakuna kulala!

chilling out at the bc wall

some more graf for your visual eye

big mike rides like that!

serene and afro setting for the evening jig.

There's more but at the rate blogger is uploading these images, i'll be 75 by the time am done! So let's leave it for some that day kenya decides to re-enter the eassy project, we might have enuff bandwidth to do this thing. Adios!

Visual Poetic Weekend III

2006-10-09T11:34:00.000+03:00

***

this was one crazily visual, poetic and eventful weekend. there was enuff to see and hear and do. and i swam in mental highness from friday nite to sunday nite. I'll let the images best tell it.

one of my artworks celebrating the matatu/Ma3 culture - Mathree za Nai! Notice how the music is pumped into the ma3 and the phat rims.

doobeez working the crowd. Have to say a word or two on Doobeez. He must be the illest lyricist i've heard coming out of the kenyan hiphop woodwork and although i got mad love for some of the local mcs, he's one of those people you listen and can't help saying "Wo, wo, wo!!" at every punchline. What with gems like "....naleta lyrics mpaka natoboa tonsils" and "you can't walk in my shoes, look at the size of these feet"! His Angerbanger/Angabanga album drops mid-October and its one CD my collection can't miss! Also, he's covered in the SHIKA (Streets Happen In Kenya and Africa) DVD with other underground mcs.

tradition met contemporary with an 8-stringed obokano performance laced with DJ Zaks hiphop scratches.

the east africa theme wasn't faded at all from the event

bob was fully represented in full regalia colours

peace, love and crabs. it's basic. yap! maslow was wrong!

stanton, need i say mo??

wapi graf on this junkyard matatu, done in under 3 hours - my bro hint and phiks collabo

two elements of hiphop - mc and graf fused in the evening sunset. Graf by uhuru.

yours truly collection, i had to come with some of my never-seen-before paintings.... yes, yes, they got accolades but were not for sale. too much sentimental value in them...

setting up lights for the evening cocktail

now that's what i call grafiti - uhuru and phiks collabo!

pointblank fiercely doing his thing under the green lite with a sketch of a lion head!

boy's best friend catching some action - i think it was Snoop playing! Its a doggy dog's world!

dude busy working a matatu culture graf - rebel is the cause of course.

60+ Years of Degeneration

2006-10-06T15:34:00.000+03:00

sometimes you come across some things and think, damn, good old days those. i was at my mom's some weekend past and pitiad through some old photos that brought quite alot of memories streaming over each other. i laughed looking at my tiny self and although i'd forgotten most of things i did back then, looking at these images pulled me back into the cellulite of my then-so-innocent life.

then there were the photos of my aunts and uncles in their teens, afros, mini-floral skirts and bellybottoms galore.

there was even an image of them at uhuru park - don't laugh - those days, that used to be "the spot" to hang out. it was green, pristine and had (hear this) boats. that's not all, from the image below of Nairobi dam, guess what, people went yatching on what is now a hyacinth paradise! Yatching in 1960, hyacinth in 2006. Na hio ni maendeleo.

i went through Malcolm McCrow's photo gallery of what The City in the Sun used to be in its post-uhuru euphoric-cum-glory days and i only have one thing to reiterate. Najivumilia kuwa mkenya!

yes, the population was minimal those days - both human and vehicles, but logically or as i think progressions should occur, we should be having skyscrapers that put the Petronas Towers to shame and flyovers circumventing the KICC. but we are still struggling with siasa za peni mbili and repairing potholes right outside City Hall.

oh by the way, did you know the top section of the KICC used to be a rotating restaurant? Yes, rotate as in go round, have 360 degrees of magical Nairobi view from that height. i think they lost a bearing so the gears stopped working (pun intended).

somehow looking at the photos from McCrow's site brought me feelings of desperation, hopelessness and mental fatigue. truth be screamed, i get these daily from the kenyan political circus, but these particular feelings were different because they banged in me the truth that once we had hope; nay, beyond hope, we had real things working. Efficiently, diligently, proudly.

Notice how he says "The modern 20th Century Cinema - among the most modern anywhere in the world"....

images from http://www.mccrow.org.uk/EastAfrica/Kenya/Kenya.htm

SPF50

2006-10-03T11:38:00.000+03:00

***

If you are reading this and you are a kawaida jamaa/man like me who thinks Vaseline and Blueband should share the same counter over at the local mart, you betta take notes, coz soon you’ll need them. While the world is busy talking of feedburners, RSS, xml, blogosphere, and therefore the digital divide, our can’t-live-with-them-can’t-do-without-them-often-verbose betta halves are churning out new expressions like overfed tennis ball machines.

This should be of great concern for men because soon, not only would we be confounded by hegemony-blasting quips like gender disparity but also what I call Gender Alienation - we’ll be talking a whole different language from the ladies. This time, literally.

This reality hit me when I was talking to some lady colleagues and after the first sentence, I could not keep up. Sasha said, “I was at the beauty shop the other day and got myself an SPF50”. Missal replied, “Oh, I use the same but SPF35 but with toning….”. I went like “Hold up! WTF is SPF?”

Ignorant as I was in this whole technical side of skincare, I was drawn into that conversation mimicking a Spanish-learning Romeo-wanna-be.

Now like any language, you have to be well-grounded in the basic tenets and for this one, they look like this.

Cleansers: Forget Omo and sunlight, those are detergents/soaps. Cleansers purportedly are kinder, gentler and unique to your skin type. You have face washes, cleansing foams, botanical and herbal soaps, washing powder etc! Yes, that’s entirely different from baking, curry, talcum or gun powder.

Toners: Ahem, what can I say. First I thought toners, HP, Canon and Epson printers. Of coz, I was wrong again. So now that you’re in the semantics, cram these. Antioxidant coenzyme Q10, age-defying (LOL), pH balance and splash-ons. These are the kind of words you should drop once in a while when conversing to chics and the topic is toners. Don’t get it confused, its pH not HP!

Moisturizers: I hear these have the power to increase the night hours hence if you’re a sleep addict, more fun! Here you get the Alpha-Arbutin creams and ceramide-enhanced lotions and Vitamin E. Some chics I know wear moisturizers that smell of chocolate…… aaaaah, let’s not go there.

Boosters: Thinking lucozade or those brown bottles? Nope! In Venus, this is the term that refers to anything containing seaweed, collagen, vits A, B, C, E, Hyaluronic acid compounds. Boosters my fellow jamaz can make even a roughed up face (from a fight with Conjestina) look presentable.

Fine Line Fighters: Its fine to enjoy feeling young at heart. However, holding grudgingly to youth has a word in this language. It’s called Age-defying. Under this nomenclature of the language, you’ll find all things that can make grandma look like your small sis. No more wrinkles!

Masks: If you’re an artist like me, what comes to mind is Luba Kifwebe masks from Congo or the Maori carvings. However, when translated into Venusian, it denotes the stuff you apply to recharge, illuminate, nourish or even peel-way your face. Yes, this is a whole new science guys!

Exfoliants: Nowadays, it seems like floors aren’t the only things you can scrub. Here, you’re talking about face scrubs, scrub brushes and AHA creams. Not Ahaa!! But AHA as in Alphahydroxy Acids. Repeat six times, you’ll soon cram it.

UV Care: Here is where the SPFs fall in. They are to our common man language, sunscreens. Even better yet, those liquids you apply on your raw face to prevent sun rays from kissing you. Why anyone would want to do that is another blog all together. And there are all kinds. SPF 25, SPF 50, SPF75 etc. The number indicates your age. Choose wisely.

When I ventured deeper into the language, I learnt more and more new words. Trust me, it’s not easy. This new lingo has its vocab stacked from A to Z. From Aloe Vera, AHA and Age spots to Zinc Oxide. To remember the last, I crammed it as Ox-hide!

Therefore, I urge you, start cracking coz when she gets you a gift of aaaaaaaah, let’s say the Clinique Travel Collection, you’ll be dumbfounded to know where to start…. Or even explain it at the airport when they claim its bomb-making material!

Talking like in any language is the key to learning it. So more often than not, I’d find myself on a roll, “I want to easen my photoaging, I was thinking I get myself an exfoliant with Watercress Extract that suits my skin pH. I think I’ll go for one with a humectant, maybe emulsifier. My collagen isn’t holding up too well….”

Oh, by the way, SPF ain’t for Super Pro Fling, it stands for Sun Protection Factor. And you thought umesoma?!

Dislaimer: If I applied all these things to my face, I think it’ll go into a comma.

Pope Con

2006-09-28T11:53:00.001+03:00

***

Am glad to see that am not the only one who escaped the Pope's Con/Scorn the other day. WinstonChurchill once said "Men occasionally stumble on the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing had happened". Are we rushing off from the Truth? This post is a reflection of that and is by Uri Avnery, taken from http://usa.mediamonitors.net/content/view/full/35750
The Pope's Evil Legend - Mohammed's Sword
By URI AVNERY

Since the days when Roman Emperors threw Christians to the lions, the relations between the emperors and the heads of the church have undergone many changes.

Constantine the Great, who became Emperor in the year 306--exactly 1700 years ago--encouraged the practice of Christianity in the empire, which included Palestine. Centuries later, the church split into an Eastern (Orthodox) and a Western (Catholic) part. In the West, the Bishop of Rome, who acquired the title of Pope, demanded that the Emperor accept his superiority.

The struggle between the Emperors and the Popes played a central role in European history and divided the peoples. It knew ups and downs. Some Emperors dismissed or expelled a Pope, some Popes dismissed or excommunicated an Emperor. One of the Emperors, Henry IV, "walked to Canossa", standing for three days barefoot in the snow in front of the Pope's castle, until the Pope deigned to annul his excommunication.

But there were times when Emperors and Popes lived in peace with each other. We are witnessing such a period today. Between the present Pope, Benedict XVI, and the present Emperor, George Bush II, there exists a wonderful harmony. Last week's speech by the Pope, which aroused a world-wide storm, went well with Bush's crusade against "Islamofascism", in the context of the "Clash of Civilizations".

* * *

IN HIS lecture at a German university, the 265th Pope described what he sees as a huge difference between Christianity and Islam: while Christianity is based on reason, Islam denies it. While Christians see the logic of God's actions, Muslims deny that there is any such logic in the actions of Allah.

As a Jewish atheist, I do not intend to enter the fray of this debate. It is much beyond my humble abilities to understand the logic of the Pope. But I cannot overlook one passage, which concerns me too, as an Israeli living near the fault-line of this "war of civilizations".

In order to prove the lack of reason in Islam, the Pope asserts that the prophet Muhammad ordered his followers to spread their religion by the sword. According to the Pope, that is unreasonable, because faith is born of the soul, not of the body. How can the sword influence the soul?

To support his case, the Pope quoted--of all people--a Byzantine Emperor, who belonged, of course, to the competing Eastern Church. At the end of the 14th century, the Emperor Manuel II Palaeologus told of a debate he had--or so he said (its occurrence is in doubt)--with an unnamed Persian Muslim scholar. In the heat of the argument, the Emperor (according to himself) flung the following words at his adversary:

"Show me just what Mohammed brought that was new, and there you will find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached".

These words give rise to three questions:

(a) Why did the Emperor say them?
(b) Are they true?
(c) Why did the present Pope quote them?

* * *

WHEN MANUEL II wrote his treatise, he was the head of a dying empire. He assumed power in 1391, when only a few provinces of the once illustrious empire remained. These, too, were already under Turkish threat.

At that point in time, the Ottoman Turks had reached the banks of the Danube. They had conquered Bulgaria and the north of Greece, and had twice defeated relieving armies sent by Europe to save the Eastern Empire. In 1453, only a few years after Manuel's death, his capital, Constantinople (the present Istanbul) fell to the Turks, putting an end to the Empire that had lasted for more than a thousand years.

During his reign, Manuel made the rounds of the capitals of Europe in an attempt to drum up support. He promised to reunite the church. There is no doubt that he wrote his religious treatise in order to incite the Christian countries against the Turks and convince them to start a new crusade. The aim was practical, theology was serving politics.

In this sense, the quote serves exactly the requirements of the present Emperor, George Bush II. He, too, wants to unite the Christian world against the mainly Muslim "Axis of Evil". Moreover, the Turks are again knocking on the doors of Europe, this time peacefully. It is well known that the Pope supports the forces that object to the entry of Turkey into the European Union.

* * *

IS THERE any truth in Manuel's argument?

The pope himself threw in a word of caution. As a serious and renowned theologian, he could not afford to falsify written texts. Therefore, he admitted that the Qur'an specifically forbade the spreading of the faith by force. He quoted the second Sura, verse 256 (strangely fallible, for a pope, he meant verse 257) which says: "There must be no coercion in matters of faith".

How can one ignore such an unequivocal statement? The Pope simply argues that this commandment was laid down by the prophet when he was at the beginning of his career, still weak and powerless, but that later on he ordered the use of the sword in the service of the faith.

Such an order does not exist in the Qur'an. True, Muhammad called for the use of the sword in his war against opposing tribes--Christian, Jewish and others--in Arabia, when he was building his state. But that was a political act, not a religious one; basically a fight for territory, not for the spreading of the faith.

Jesus said: "You will recognize them by their fruits." The treatment of other religions by Islam must be judged by a simple test: How did the Muslim rulers behave for more than a thousand years, when they had the power to "spread the faith by the sword"?

Well, they just did not.

For many centuries, the Muslims ruled Greece. Did the Greeks become Muslims? Did anyone even try to Islamize them? On the contrary, Christian Greeks held the highest positions in the Ottoman administration. The Bulgarians, Serbs, Romanians, Hungarians and other European nations lived at one time or another under Ottoman rule and clung to their Christian faith. Nobody compelled them to become Muslims and all of them remained devoutly Christian.
True, the Albanians did convert to Islam, and so did the Bosniaks. But nobody argues that they did this under duress. They adopted Islam in order to become favorites of the government and enjoy the fruits.

In 1099, the Crusaders conquered Jerusalem and massacred its Muslim and Jewish inhabitants

indiscriminately, in the name of the gentle Jesus. At that time, 400 years into the occupation of Palestine by the Muslims, Christians were still the majority in the country. Throughout this long period, no effort was made to impose Islam on them. Only after the expulsion of the Crusaders from the country, did the majority of the inhabitants start to adopt the Arabic language and the Muslim faith--and they were the forefathers of most of today's Palestinians.

* * *

THERE IS no evidence whatsoever of any attempt to impose Islam on the Jews. As is well known, under Muslim rule the Jews of Spain enjoyed a bloom the like of which the Jews did not enjoy anywhere else until almost our time. Poets like Yehuda Halevy wrote in Arabic, as did the great Maimonides. In Muslim Spain, Jews were ministers, poets, scientists. In Muslim Toledo, Christian, Jewish and Muslim scholars worked together and translated the ancient Greek philosophical and scientific texts. That was, indeed, the Golden Age. How would this have been

possible, had the Prophet decreed the "spreading of the faith by the sword"?

What happened afterwards is even more telling. When the Catholics re-conquered Spain from the Muslims, they instituted a reign of religious terror. The Jews and the Muslims were presented with a cruel choice: to become Christians, to be massacred or to leave. And where did the hundreds of thousand of Jews, who refused to abandon their faith, escape? Almost all of them were received with open arms in the Muslim countries. The Sephardi ("Spanish") Jews settled all over the Muslim world, from Morocco in the west to Iraq in the east, from Bulgaria (then part of the Ottoman Empire) in the north to Sudan in the south. Nowhere were they persecuted. They knew nothing like the tortures of the Inquisition, the flames of the auto-da-fe, the pogroms, the terrible mass-expulsions that took place in almost all Christian countries, up to the Holocaust.

WHY? Because Islam expressly prohibited any persecution of the "peoples of the book". In Islamic society, a special place was reserved for Jews and Christians. They did not enjoy completely equal rights, but almost. They had to pay a special poll-tax, but were exempted from military service--a trade-off that was quite welcome to many Jews. It has been said that Muslim rulers frowned upon any attempt to convert Jews to Islam even by gentle persuasion--because it entailed the loss of taxes.

Every honest Jew who knows the history of his people cannot but feel a deep sense of gratitude to Islam, which has protected the Jews for fifty generations, while the Christian world persecuted the Jews and tried many times "by the sword" to get them to abandon their faith.

* * *

THE STORY about "spreading the faith by the sword" is an evil legend, one of the myths that grew up in Europe during the great wars against the Muslims--the reconquista of Spain by the Christians, the Crusades and the repulsion of the Turks, who almost conquered Vienna. I suspect that the German Pope, too, honestly believes in these fables. That means that the leader of the Catholic world, who is a Christian theologian in his own right, did not make the effort to study the history of other religions.

Why did he utter these words in public? And why now?

There is no escape from viewing them against the background of the new Crusade of Bush and his evangelist supporters, with his slogans of "Islamofascism" and the "Global War on Terrorism"--when "terrorism" has become a synonym for Muslims. For Bush's handlers, this is a cynical attempt to justify the domination of the world's oil resources. Not for the first time in history, a religious robe is spread to cover the nakedness of economic interests; not for the first time, a robbers' expedition becomes a Crusade.

The speech of the Pope blends into this effort. Who can foretell the dire consequences?

Uri Avnery is an Israeli writer and peace activist with Gush Shalom. He is one of the writers featured in

The Other Israel: Voices of Dissent and Refusal. He is also a contributor to CounterPunch's hot new book The Politics of Anti-Semitism.

Of Vantage & Vintage

2006-09-25T10:15:00.000+03:00

So, i doubt i'll ever be able to pin up photos of my Grahamstown excursion or the WAPI 4 event images coz too much i happening and i find myself popping from one thing to the next - i guess that is the jinx of my life. I intend to still put 'em up, sometime, preferably in the near, near future lakini before i do, here's some snaps of this year's Concours d'Elegance, which was jana. Not to mention, lovely and reminiscent of those swimming galas we used to have in primo and high skul, jamaz come flossin' and alot to see.

The thing about this show is that you certainly (and almost shockingly) realise the disparity between the haves and the have-nots. The advantaged and the regular sukuma-wiki fellas like myself. Most of the crowd here is undoubtedly wanna-be's, but those few who ARE definitely HAVE. To begin with you have X5's and Benz's running the length of the parking lot, while you have come walking. And these are not the cars on display. The one's on display are a 1966 Ford Mustang, a 1951 Rolls Royce, some Alfa Romeos clocking 30+ years, Austin Martin from the days our folks were rockin' and rollin', a 1960 VW Karmann Ghia and the list goes on and on.

These babies have been pampered, pimped, spruced up and diligently maintained, some to over-clinical levels. The Ford Mustang (the only one at this show) had its silver-coated engine sparkling clean, it could easily compete with any bling bling out there.

The thing that took away my admiration though was the 1925 DKW motorcycle from Sati's Classic which had been restored from a scrappy-looking basic skeleton junk to this golden-brown super-glossy-must-have bike. I tell you, the things you can do with money. CREAM is nice, no doubt.

dci : lessons learnt 2

2006-09-22T11:25:00.000+03:00

Okey folks, the last of the lessons learnt. am not sure how these can be clearly articulated into helping the kawa blogger (ubaya ya kuwa spoonfed with this 8-4-4 system), but personally i reckon i can apply the thoughts, ideas and associations learnt from the dci on many different things i do.

Case in point - When someone at the conference said that in Africa we have failed to manage our diversity (the repercussions in form of Rwanda genocide, SA apartheid + the fact that all these East Asian countries like Malaysia, Indonesia etc were at the same par with us economically while we gained independence and somehow did a GebreSelassie on us) i pictured how my blog can be a mouthpiece to celebrate the uniqueness of our people within their diversity. I pictured how different bloggers could come up with their own respective (and respectable) insights and share them with others for the betterment of themselves. I pictured how i could apply these lessons to my blog, my block, my community, my life. Like the butterfly effect, i wishfully think it'll have bigger and better effects if we first own the everyday struggle.

Al-Jazeera got props for highlighting "a balanced and unbiased" coverage of middle eastern events - it was applauded as a different view from all the "regular programming" that we are used to from reuters, cnn, sky etc.
I was shocked to find out that Ghana has 136 radio stations (12 state-owned, population: 22m) while here am still struggling to chezea this dial ishike Capital and not Kameme! Liberalization means more info reach more people. The trick again is to manage the diversity and not turn each station to be a tribal instigator. Just my thoughts.......
For bloggers, it means that podcasting has the potential to convert each blog to a radio station????
Also, i found out that when you try to tweng in Ghana, you're called a LAFA (local african, foreign accent!). Now that's a nice deterrent for those of us huku sides of Pumwani kujaribu kuongea ni kama we're from Atlanta.
Blogs and online media can be used to enhance participation in vertical dialogues. This is the same point as enabling info to flow bottom-up instead of the traditional top-down.
In KE for example, micro-activism on parts of our blogs can (and i believe will) make a difference in how things are run. Getting there means involving ourselves with great initiatives such as mzalendo.com, creating strong linkages that are no push-overs, then demanding for the changes we seek. Check out theyworkforyou.com
That although we may be safe thinking "phewx, the dci didn't come up with the dreaded code of conduct for the african blogosphere..." there are concerted efforts by the likes of the Internet Governance Forum to "regulate" - yes expand that idea, the internet. Also, i remember reading somewhere that the US has a scheme to dominate information warfare.
If you want to do biashara on the net, start with the end in mind. What are your best opportunities to realise your vision? To minimise costs, use free tools such as Blogger, Wordpress, engage forums and comment functions. Whiteafrican covers some of them.
"Everybody owns a Heidelberg now" (Peter Verweij), with personal blogs. I think the question to be asked is "What are you going to print on yours?"

Links: - Disclaimer, am not advertising any of these firms/people in any way. Use it for your Goodies/Knowledge/Truthseeking: - www.mms-blogs.com, www.24.com, www.dailykos.com, www.sethzodin.typepad.com, www.michelfortin.com, www.markshuttleworth.com, www.netucation.co.za, www.timbuktuchronicles.com (i must say, here you'll find a wealth of info), www.worldchanging.com, www.africaunchained.com, www.newzbubble.com, www.moneyweb.com, https://www.google.com/adsense (if you wanna make some cheddar from your blog).

And, i arrest my case. That was what i learnt from the dci, i made quite a number of contacts (which few shall remain nameless), and i sincerely hope that others can benefit from the summit albeit via proxy. The lessons learnt, both previous posted and this one are available as a PDF for further circulation and am printing it to distribute locally. If you're interested, holla at me and i shall email it to you.

dci : lessons learnt 1

2006-09-20T13:18:00.001+03:00

The Small View: Who is an African, what's the definition of Indaba, Where's Grahamstown?
The Bigger Pikcha: How will lessons learnt better anyone, African or not.

i got me a nice shot of some street name in Grahamstown - very appropriate for the debate that was.

DISCLAIMER: Kelele za chura hazimzui ngo'mbe kunywa maji mtoni // the cries of a frog do not hinder the cow from drinking in the river.

It's amazing how much you can learn in a space of one week. Mental na Bankelele, thanks again for the great company - made me realise that blogging is not only about skills networking but also social networking. Ory, Mzalendo got me inspired. Am gathering some answers to the ques you raised in your first Powerpoint presentation! Way to go!!! The pro bono offer still stands.

The precursor to the DCI was the Highway Africa, an annual kongomano of African (oops...... this word is too sensitive nowadays) journalists with a focus on encouraging them to continously engage and capitalise on new tech to play bigger and better roles in serving the public. Both the conferences had plenty of lessons (regardless of the skincolour of the speakers).... The following are lessons i learnt and i hope (besides Aco, others will benefit from).

Technology is a means to an end, or at least it should be. It can be used to advance or hinder access/development. Lack of knowledge of tech advances may well increase the digital divide and thereby requiring greater efforts to bridge this gap.
Advances in tech should be embedded in social policies i.e. what benefits do people/communities derive from such technologies. In the case of blogs, we should be looking at how new media can positively advance our causes, lives etc
New media has great potential to lower literacy levels, advance sociopoliticoeconomic development across Africa
The use of SWOT analysis and the Pareto Principle when making quality-related decisions. This i found motivating becoz you can apply these principles across the board and even when it comes to things am passionate about e.g. enhancing art in social settings.
Implementing Quality Culture where quality indicators are audited and maintained on a regular basis...... i do agree with Ory, i think if you do this on a micro-level, then you begin to effect change globally..... and we can pray that soon, that quality culture is heeded by our governments etc
Elements of journalistic ideology include a) Public Service b) Objectivity c) Autonomy d) Immediacy and f) Ethical. If we relate these to blogging, then can we say that blogging is journalism? The discussions did not finish, but i am of the opinion that blogging is journalism, albeit the "code of conduct" that strict journalism operates within. In a way, if a jamaa from Isiolo blogs about his/her life, regardless of whether its objective or subjective, it tells us alot about that place and paints a base picture of life there.
The Long Tail is the name given to the diagram that represents..... ok, let Wiki say it better. The whole idea is that there are these millions of sites that make up the long winding end of the "tail" and this is where majority of web users are.
Afropessism, the attitude that nothing good comes out of Africa is being changed by Africans writing and telling their own stories, thru blogs.
The internet revolution changes the flow of info from top-bottom to bottom-up. Bloggers in particular feed local knowledge from the ground up.
Pertinent questions were raised: - a) Who decides on the debates within the new info economy? b)How are we to move on without overlooking "pedestrians" - i.e. ensure accessibility to all? c) How do we avoid tendencies to shut out others in this new media economy?
One major pitfall in Africa has been managing our diversity, case in point Sudan, Rwanda and South Africa. Africans must own their own problems and find their own solutions. We must defy myths that our problems will be solved by others, or awaiting a messiah.
Online media differs from mainstream media in these ways: - a) Interactivity b) Hypertextuality c) Multimediality. These make it much more versatile and increases its value and accessibility.
The above benefits have seen the rise of Electronic Empires like Google, Microsoft, AT&T and AOL.
Despite these, new media has the following constraints: - a) The medium needs accessibility, telecom infrastructure, computer literacy etc b) Liguistic bias - few publish in African languages.... Jikomboe and his whole network - Pongezi kwenu!! Mko miles ahead. c) Social shaping - the use of the net is personal not universal d) Competition with establishes news agencies e) Institutional arrangements between African newspapers and continental-based agencies
Interested in Masters of Arts degree in Journalism and Media Studies, starts mid-Jan '07. Apply for scholarship/bursary at www.ru.ac.za or email Pricilla Boshoff p.a.boshoff@ru.ac.za or Lynette Steenveld l.steenveld@ru.ac.za
Links:- www.certimedia.org, www.optimedia.org, www.eldi.org, www.zimgreats.com, www.live365.com, www.sonicbox.com, www.ohmynews.com, www.wikinews.org, www.newsassignment.net, www.blogafrica.com, www.globalvoicesonline.org,www.muti.co.za,
More elaborate info can be found at the DCI wiki on http://dci.ru.ac.za/wiki/index.php/Main_Page
My fav just coz it's in pictures - the photoblog of dci at http://www.flickr.com/photos/dci/

DCI : Enter Judas

2006-09-18T16:59:00.000+03:00

+++

Black-loving Gtown is tranquil. As tranquil as Nairobi could ever dream of getting. The fresh unfettered misty air pangs you like a native of Chenobil. this is one place where you can feel the ease of life in the midst of birds singing. And at nite, the local swimming pool hosts a charged game of waterpolo, shouts and whistles filling the moon-lit horizon from my room.

The whistles, shouts and clamour instantly remind me of why am here - or more, of why some people have issues with me being here. You see, the way i view it is pretty simplistic.

I applied for the DCI like everyone else, got the scholarship and am here to learn. Moreover, am pressed to think that someone already concluded that we are not representative enuff. Concluded about my intentions or lack thereof to sambaza the knowledge i've acquired from here to benefit others besides myself. But nooooo, that doesn't seem to be a good enuff script for the self-acclaimed Real African Blogger.

Pause.

Ponder for a minute.

Laugh.

The laughter could be out of disrespect but it ain't. I mean, this is just too trivial to have caused this much vitroil. Lakini kwajili alianaza, lazima nijibu.

Let's keep it simple and stupid, shall we? Am not going to qualify what passes as a blog, who passes as an African, a blogger or an African blogger for that matter. You're who you think you are. Jijazie.

Did i gain from this conference? Yes, beyond my expectations. And since am not anywhere playing fiddle to someone's request to wait for the speeches to ".....savage or praise them with due consideration", i will run it personally the same way i envisaged and resort to blog each lesson learnt as way of EMPOWERING and DEVELOPING others skills. Maybe someone else can benefit from these "30 pieces of silver".

But it's got me thinking, so what exactly is the script that the Real African Blogger needs us to play? My questions pop this way, na natumai ntapata majibu za kiutu uzima.

If we all applied at the same time, same place, doesnt that account for a transparent and fair process?

If AB&H received the scholarship, angeikataa on the basis that the panel was predominantly white? Leo hii tukiwa na kiburi kwa walio na elimu/ujuzi kutushinda, tunaenda wapi on the pretext of colour tunaenda wapi?

What is racist if not the above?

If Kipketer is Danish what stops a ........ oh, wait. Let me rephrase. Doesn't a white person born in Africa qualify to be African? Egyptians are super-light in hue, are they Africans? Do you have to be a coal-coloured miro to own that term?

Kwa nini kubomoa badala ya kujijenga hata kama ni kupata mafunzo kwa waliotutangulia kwa elimu kama kublogu?

Kama waweza kufanya zaidi ya waliochukua mkono wa mbele, then do it! Mimi najitolea kujilipia all expenses na nimbebee bag ya 30 pieces of silver kwa kunialika!I came out of Gtown a betta blogger and a BETTA EQUIPPED AFRICAN regardless of who convened the conference. Which part of this sentence doesn't make sense?

As was my intention, I'll redistribute the lessons tenfold. Shouldn't we be concentrating on teaching each other new skills and not kupepeta moto za upuzi? Hii ndio sababu kubwa namheshimu Ndesanjo kwa kuwa anapatiana changa moto na mafunzo muhimu tunazohitaji wakati wa sasa kama Waafrika - weusi au weupe.If am invited or get a scholarship to Gtown again or anywhere else for the intention of advancing my skills, whether its China, Molo, Moshi or Timbuktu, i'll take it. And that's free. What if they add 30 pieces of silver juu yake?

-------------
image: http://goldprice.org/buy-silver/uploaded_images/junk-silver-coins-797355.JPG

Heat and Cold at DCI

2006-09-14T15:13:00.000+03:00

Damn it's cold! That's all i can think inside the lecture hall at the Digital Citizen Indaba. Am in GTown in the East Cape of South Africa and the weather here takes a backseat to the hot digital citizenry issues that are under discussion today. Bloggers, mobloggers, vbloggers, hactivists are all gathered to brainstorm on the new "journalism" sunami that is raging upon us all. I liked one speaker's comment -

"Whatever threatens journalism is journalism in itself"

911 : An Afterthought

2006-09-08T14:42:00.000+03:00

***

I can’t help being a skeptic. I was brought up to question things, chew my food and not just swallow whole. And after seeing so much drama - orchestrated drama on this planet, am left questioning all the minute spaces there may be in “sincerity”. Am actively suffocating any pockets of gullibility left in me coz hey, only dead omena swim along with the current. My mind’s constantly on a roll of questions. What is truth? What is real? Do they matter? If they do, why? And to whom?

Not to sound like a shrink or someone in dire need of one, I don’t contend with issues without trying to understand the facts and build-up behind them. Finite eyes can only visualize finite things and despite this limitation we are still able to dig up the truths about event's pasts and the meaning behind things. More powerful however is an open mind, for it comprehends grander stuff than what meets the eye. It’s the sapien sapiens in all of us that questions, searches, researches, dismantles and constructs meanings.

So am glued in front of this gigantic silver screen watching events of the doomed United Flight 93 Hollywoodly unfold before my finite eyes. Before I came here I had almost 93 reasons why I didn’t feel like watching this flick – from the fact that it’ll be a fiction totally incompatible with the reality that bore it, to the obvious innuendos that will be littered in its scripts to the detriment of some quarters, namely Islam, Arabs etc. But still I always loved a good show; and it’s amazing how much you can see when you want to see. The vice versa is equally true.

So after a sizeable amount of the aforementioned, the movie ends as spectacularly as how real life would if you plummeted over 30,000 feet to the ground. It’s another incredible fiction from the media arm of Propaganda United and from that merit it’s nice to watch if you’re into CG and Visual FX – extraordinary stuff in there. However, I found out that if you’re realistically inclined, the end proves to be the beginning of a stream of mental questions.

Tuanze.

Isn’t it incredible how an entire Boeing 757 – in Kenyan terms, the size of a length stretch of 15 or so Kibera mabati shanties, virtually did a kiini macho stunt right before the fields of Shanksville? To this date, there’s no actual footage of the entire wreckage of this humongous aircraft apart from mabati kidogo kidogo here and there. All these while, the victims’ bodies were being recovered, while the whole plane varnished!! Salaala!

Isn’t it incredible how those America-hating-kamikaze-bedouins managed to pull off such an exploit in the first instance? Picture 19 very-Middle-Eastern-looking jamaz passing undetected with their box-cutters in the jaws of the tightest aviation security, manage to hijack these planes using the same box-cutters (plus bomb hoaxes), still manage to reach the secure cockpits (some manned by ex-military pilots), still manage to effectively take control the planes, still manage to fly them for …… I don’t recall how long but long enuff to hit something as precise as oh, I don’t know, the Pentagon? Here’s the icing, apparently this happened after circling four to five times above the five-sided intelligence headquarters…. aaahm unnoticed and causing no suspicion at all. Climax!

Isn’t it incredible that before The Matrix Trilogy ever came out from Hollywood, here were some real people pulling real-life stunts like these? I mean, its no feat - no photograph of any hijackers boarding the flights, no tickets bought for the flights either yet they still managed to get in. Won’t I love to know how to do that, I can go to all the dream destinations I’ve wanted to. No distress signals sent out of the planes… I mean, what were the pilots/copilots thinking? You have suicidal kurutus banging on the cockpit door (trying to fervently get in using box-cutters) and still you do nothing to alert the authorities of this impending hijack? Lo! Kumekujwo!

Isn’t it incredible that they managed to replicate this drama not once, not twice, not thrice but five times that one single 11th day of September without a whiff from the most articulate intelligence outfits known to present man? I mean, really, don’t you just admire these !@$@#% super-efficient Islamists? At this point, they make Neo look very amateurish! Enda cheza na watoto wadogo!

Isn’t it incredible that 5 years down the line, just about the entire (ok, am hyperbolic) leading academia in the West believe the truth behind 911 was and is still hidden from the public. If you’re skeptical like me, this is a great read to unravel some of those reservations: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/9/11_Truth_Movement, heck, I think this should even be taught in kindergartens! Exactly where we were (reading a book upside down) when it was all unfolding. See how calm we was? You think we knew about the whole mission? Kumbaf!

Then when kids get to K2, we can teach them abit of good old-fashioned truth.

Am trying hard to escape to Zion from this collective unconsciousness of media-driven simulations. Is it simulated? Is it real? What is real? What is truth? Do they matter? If they do, why? And to whom?

Ahhhhhhh, too many questions, why don’t we just believe what we are told! Or read. Or see.

Complexities I

2006-09-01T10:42:00.000+03:00

It felt like a dream, sweet vanilla ice cream. I got intoxicated by the romantic steam, floating downstream, then we hit the rocks and I didn’t want it no more. I didn’t want to fall in love again because I had learnt that not just rocks break, hearts do too. One mistake is enough to make you leap over the waterfalls so I closed up, wasn’t ready for any plunges yet. Then someone came into my life that I had not planned for. She had no pre-conceptions, no pretensions. It was like the perfect beginning. Or the start of a new beginning. Nothing could come between this thing we were starting. It was meant to be, destiny if you will. One morning I awoke with the sun’s rising on the East and she was at the West. Strange what can happen while you’re having your kawaida forty winks.

How did this happen? How could life go on? If this wasn’t it, what was? I could have packed my bags to join her, yet I didn’t. There was something amiss about my indifference but what was wrong with it I could not tell. The sun’s setting made all the black and whites a lot grayer. This day I had no faith we could survive the cold of the night. We needed more than just a dream to hang onto. Everyone thought it would last but we casually let it slip. We both had too much pride inside, we needed to fly into the open blue and dance among the stars. The sky was calling and I thought if us together was not its limit then ecstasy awaited us somewhere else.

More chaotic days followed, stuck in the dark of what my life had become, stuck in the middle of my life and my dream. I let go of that dream to stick to my life. It was inevitable. The Chinese said if you don’t change your direction, you’re bound to end up where you’re going. So I moved on, stayed true to myself, my ideals, and my reality. I recalled the conversations that I used to have, learning from the old man at the base of the Great Tsavo Baobab tree. I remember him saying, “Son, you can build dreams. Construct them as you would a cowshed. Carve them as you would a mwiko, mold them and even change them”. Each of these lessons was given with a distant look into the outstretching plain giving it the credence of age-molded wisdom. He went on, “Just as long as you don’t lose the essence of your being. I know you don’t know this lesson and you look like you don’t want to learn it, but, in life you have to be willing to learn though you may not be willing to be taught”. With that he took a sip from his calabash and left me to wander in my mental abyss, processing the depth of his words.

I reflected and pondered, pondered and reflected. When I stood up from the ground and began treading, I could feel the ease at which I carried my burdens. I trod on. Same direction. New zeal.

Mt. Longonot : Conquered

2006-08-28T10:43:00.000+03:00

There's an inimitable natural high that overcomes you when you overcome a natural high. This is exactly the feeling I got on the rim of Mt. Longonot this past Wednesday. It was not the shortness of breath at this height that took my breath away. It was the magnificent, completely astounding sight that greets you when you reach the top after an hour or so of wading through crumbled tufa-filled ravines. From here, you can see the parasitic cone below looking like a kid trying to keep up with the mum, the stretch of Lake Naivasha glittering in the afternoon sun and the openness of the Rift Valley lay open reminiscent of a treasure map – with all the spots clearly visible for miles on end.

Nothing beats a supercharged hike up 2,776 metres topped up with a superdelicious homemade sandwich. It’s your perfect definition of “Climax”.

Up here, if you close your eyes standing at the edge of the knife-edged rim, feeling the swishing breeze lifting your thoughts, you’re united with the drums and fullness of ancient Africa’s life. Further thoughts drift you to the birth of this wonder; you feel the raw heat of red-hot lava souring upwards trying to find expression on the surface. You’re acquainted with images of seething 340 degrees of activity several thousand metres below the serene green surface. Quiet steam escapes from its side vents whispering songs of enchanting majesty and unexplored possibilities which make me wander in my own whispers of self-reflection and realization.

At this height, you rapidly descend into feelings of overpowering irresistibility to nature’s aphrodisiac and the humbling effect of your relative insignificance in the midst of this colossal chasm.

Then the thought that you overcame it makes you high and takes you higher.

Visual Poetic W'kend II

2006-08-21T14:30:00.000+03:00

**
I had a premonition it would be good. But it turned out to be extremely great! The 2nd WAPI event at the British Council had so much zing this time around and i basked in the energetic visual-poetic vibe. Ahem, the fotoz: -

This was one of my displays entitled "Blak Cinderella".... got alot of props too!

I did this piece for the event's theme "Dadahood" - for sisterhood. Extra props... i poured my heart and soul into the poetry.... i shall blog it soon.

Art was amazing in this joint, i must say i was inspired by quite alot of the work, headed home and attacked my dormant canvases.

"Floetry" was my broz entry this time around, celebrating Dadahood in graf style.

This jamaa impressed me, he came with a blank canvas and at the end of the event, it looked like this!

Kevo as usual did some outstandin' graf work - check out the spraycan.

NOTICE: ALL ARTWORKS ARE THE PROPERTY OF THEIR RELEVANT OWNERS, PERMISSION SHOULD BE SORT AND GRANTED BEFORE USE.

Surfacescan

2006-08-10T11:31:00.000+03:00

Bart, Wewe Ni Wetu!!

You may not remember (I highly doubt tho – you had 2much passion for Kenya to 4get) but I’ve been thinkin’ I miss those dayz we had chapoz at the 2nd floor wen you used to bring proper mandazis from that lady on your way from home. And the XXL red Ice-hockey tee you wore to “inspire” you. Always had an Ethiopian scarf round your neck and at times adorned the reggae-colours cap, thot u'd end up an ethiopian wifey. People must have thot you work at the radio station next door! Remember Fifi, the little Red Devil Suzuki. Damn, the time we went up the State House hill, I feared it won’t climb and true it started stallin' until u stepped on the gas and she climbed that hill groaning and choking - i still laugh thinkn of the drama wen we got stopped by the Five O. I have never believed you went on an East Africa tour with her after that..... tuff love! Whatever happened to our plan to paint her back with those angelic figures?

I went over my thoughts to the dayz you hang out in Kibera in the ghetto joints with Buddy, Tom and Co; you had truly bekam a local Muzungu! Then the times at the Yaya garage, them good dayz those were. Sometimes in the office am reminded of you by the weirdest things – the Laval flag draped all over Shitote’s wall, the strong coffee from the kitchen etc!

Hope Vancouver is treatin’ you well, Africa’s swell tryin’ to make this ends meet!

Forced to Swallow Our Pride

2006-08-07T10:33:00.000+03:00

Tutavuna nini kujivunia?

Don’t be fooled by the title, it’s a pun. The Office of the Government Spokesman in its seemingly unending idiotic stunts of unsurpassed magnitudes decided to go on a campaign blitz to remind us just how proud we should be, being Kenyans. The heart and soul of this here campaign is so serious, it’s laughable. They are selling the phrase “Najivunia kuwa Mkenya” and its equivalent in English “Am proud to be Kenyan”. They have donning adverts, stickers, am sure they are busy with the billboards, tshirts, caps, hell even socks for this freezing season!

I find it ironic that they should be enticing us to blow our own trumpets at a time when we are suffocating under the shaming fumes of nearly six commissions on corruption, plundering of public resources, mismanagement, did I say corruption and God knows what else (read Kiruki). If that’s not enuff, where on earth do you know mere commissioners, under oath of uncovering these vices, earn a cool average of Kshs. 40 million per person within a space of one or two years!!!? If anything this is the one time when I have no shame saying I gladly lie about where am from whenever am out of Kenya. Pikcha saying “Am Kenyan” and yes, won’t you have opened a can of worms when the barrage of negative comments start streaming in like toxic waste from Inda into Nairobi River.

Aki wacheni mchezo – hio pride itanishibisha? Will it put ugali on my table? Am Kenyan. So what? Don’t the rest of the 33 million Kenyans, half of whom are scavenging below the poverty line know they are? Are they proud to be? Do they ever hope to be when the situation is getting’ more cloudy by the day? If the govt wants to gauge how proud pips are to be Kenyans, they should do a survey around bordertowns (Busia, Namanga, Msambweni etc) and count juz how many people prefer the other side of the borderline. I read an article in Nation sometime back on how Msambweni residents believe J. Kikwete is their president. Oh, Msambweni is right inside Kenya. And why shouldn’t they? He has benefited them more in one year of being there than they have from the 40+ years of Kenyan independence! The poor souls haven’t even heard of pin-drop-silent-word-economist Kifaki!

Kama kujivunia tu kuwa Wakenya, sote twaweza. Lakini kujivunia kutanifaidisha vipi katika maisha yangu ya sasa, kibri hii inanisaidiaje? Wouldn’t the Office of the Government Spokesman have come up with more creative and original ways of spending the millions if they were genuine in the first place? You cannot shove ideas of passion and patriotism down one’s throat when they have had nothing to eat for days on end, ala!! You first tend to their basic needs before they can become proud members of the society they are in – enda usome Maslow kabla uje na half-baked medications for our chronic ailments!!! There are many, many much more important, more prioritity, more sane, more impactful projects to pursue other than printing some stickers for our matatus and wishing everyone would by the dawn of the next day be utterly joyous, loyal and proud citizens.

I think the initiative should rather have come from some other quarter in order to get some buy-in from the likes of myself. If it was independently done, people would have bought it hook, line and sinker. Coz hey, what moral authority does this government have to tell us to be proud whilst in their own gluttonous haste are busy ripping the IV right from our ER beds? Stackin’ like they ain’t Kenyans themselves. Don’t they feel the pain of shredding their own motherland to bits? Would any of our current govt officials stand up (after this) in front of an international forum and declare “Am proud to be Kenyan” ? Nani?

Which brings me to the point, maybe they should change that campaign slogan from “Najivunia kuwa Mkenya” to “Najivumilia kuwa Mkenya” because really, it’s a struggle.

Memory Lapse

2006-07-20T11:43:00.000+03:00

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!

2006-07-19T10:26:00.000+03:00

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

2006-07-17T10:23:00.000+03:00

***

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!