Aug 28, 2006

Mt. Longonot : Conquered

**

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.







Aug 21, 2006

Visual Poetic W'kend II

**
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.

Aug 10, 2006

Surfacescan

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!

Aug 7, 2006

Forced to Swallow Our Pride

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.

Jul 20, 2006

Memory Lapse

Mjadala Wa Sasa

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

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

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

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

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

Jul 19, 2006

Eye Drops in Tea!

What's your cup of tea?


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

Today I learnt that a few eye drops in tea causes diarrhea! How am going to use this trivia am still contemplating. It’s one of those things you wonder how the person who discovered it came about knowing it, must have been having tea-break at a clinic. Either that or some serious overdose of CSI.
Whatever your cup of tea, try and learn something different today. You never know when it might come in handy!

Jul 17, 2006

Visual Poetic Weekend

***
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!

Jul 13, 2006

The Babel Tower Effect

A facet from language barrier

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jul 6, 2006

Romance for Dummies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jul 3, 2006

Rio Bluez

Twice beaten...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jun 23, 2006

Soccercism!

***

I must admit, Brazil got me worried for a minute there with their lackluster performance in their first two games. But hey, i've been busy convincing others (and myself) that it's all in the game plan. Yeah, and that they wouldn't want their rivals to read their game before the time when it matters most came. The plan is to lead them on a different direction and when they meet you, wham!! They won't have an idea what hit them... the hints have been coming out from magical Robinho and legendary Ronaldo. Anyway, above that, this is one team that has scores and scores of legendary playaz, coaches and wins behind them. They have not come to this level by chance and to even think about dismissing them with a wimp of wishful thinkin' that they won't cut it is heresy. You can be forgiven if you do that to other teams notably France, USA, Ecuador etc.

So i heard people go on and on about Ronaldo (poor guy, i was also starting to really doubt his ability to perform) but he came back in style - 2 goals to drown the Rising Suns and equal Gerd Muller as the leading FIFA World Cup goalscorer of all time with an impressive 14 goals. Talk about silencing the critics.

My bone of contention is the shifting of goal posts by some "fans" now that clarity begins to embrace the game. The solids have gone thru and the others gone home. For some people (namely Czech fans), it was a bitter pill to swallow. They fervently claimed this was Czech's year to take the cup home. Alas! Now one of my gud buddies seeing his team leaving for Prague suddenly became a Ghanaian supporter. Undoubtedly, the Black Stars have had a gud run in this tournament, but drawn against the Selecao in the elimination stage would be their true test. So he asks me where my loyalty will lie then - coz to him, am a sellout for not supporting "Africa". My loyalty will lie with the same team i started with, win or lose (and lose is a scarce verb in our vocab). I mean, it's so convenient to become a "real" African when situations favour you (or not). It's easier to be "identified" as one of us/them when all along you've been out there..... Am curious to see where he'll jump next if the Black Stars pack back to Accra.

At the end, its just a game. Am having alot of fun with him on this one, i think once Ghana get booted with a scoreline of 6 - 1, then he'll come back to his senses. That scoreline is not hyperbolic, its as realistic as it gets. I mean, Ronaldo has to betta Muller's record, Robinho, Adriano and Kaka will be eyeing the Golden Boot and their underdog opponent despite putting up a brave fight, will be meeting them for the 1st time. Ouch, can't wait!!!
As other people say, it ain't over until the Fat Boy scores!!

Jun 22, 2006

Portfolio1

As i said in kujianika, putting up some of my wax here for props, barbs and comments.


This piece is a birthday card; the client's brief was "Make it Pink and Black!" That was it. You got to love client's really truncated instructions and huge anticipation for the ultimate design. Reconciling the two can be a designer's nightmare.... and very often, bliss!

Ma3 za Nai

***
Grew up with them. Running and rode around in them. Loved them. They inspired us with brighter flashier lights, UV and all inside. Design catapulted to the extra plane, creavity forged with madness. Created crazier stikaz and louder muzik to mentally indulge wateja when they diverted their minds from the troubles of this world, on their way home. Talkin' about Nairobi's Matatus.

Jun 19, 2006

Say What?

the art of thinking before saying


I don't know when i first got fascinated with what people say or how they say it, and became obsessed with the double meanings, puns and absurdities of those words and phrases. All i know is that i somehow began appreciating and enjoying the twisted meanings or their implied even in situations where the other party was dead serious (read meetings). I find myself instantly quippin' on someone's comment then moments later realize juz how cheeky or "punny" my own statement came out. What i love though is when that sort of quip comes from the other person.

Am busy discussing The Apprentice with an Acquaintance and she innocently quips "Oh, have you watched the new one with that virgin guy?" Well, here is when my brain overworks for a few milliseconds and i go like "Which virgin guy?" My mind is already laughing then it translates the same to my face when i see her face cringing with what i think is embarrassment-cum-unbelief! It then almost instantaneously hits her how corny her double-meaning comment was.

More intriguing however is when someone tried convincing how Islam was "inspired" by the devil. Since i try to be liberal (try here means am not), and believe my brain is for thinking with, i entertain the thought so that we can both somehow reach some form of logical conclusion on the reality of things. Think about it for a minute. Or two. Picture the devo tellin' jamaz to pray to One Great GOD. Picture if you will, him commanding "his followers" to shun & despise him and on top of it avoid anything evil - talk about shooting oneself on the foot! Now the trail of thought has really got me thinking. Why would satan inspire so much righteousness, love & humility to parents, helping the poor, preach peace and kindness to neighbours and your fellow humans? Mmhh, something wrong in this circuitry. Ask me another, my mind can no longer comprehend nor synthesize the thought so i drop it while laughing at its audacity. I think we should give some credit to lucifer for shrewdness - i mean he's been around so long, if he went that way, i think he'd prefer suicide instead!

I guess sometimes everyone says stuff without pausing to put a thought into it and that's ok, that's what makes the human experience juicier. Spontaneity and outrage! One thing i put a check on though is coming up with quotable quotes like these in front of a whole crowd or betta yet on national tv!! I'd rather spend a few more seconds thinking about what am about to say than sayin' it wrongly, regrettin' and living with its repercussions sometimes for the longest period.

Oh, by the way, that Virgin guy we talked about earlier is Richard Branson! Don't get caught pants down with comments like this (pun very much intended)!!

Jun 8, 2006

Samba Tyme!!

The Art of Soccer


Once every four years, i transform to embrace a form of art that has its galleries filled with pomp, fireworks, lively parades and anthems. It is the only time I convert to a true football fanatic as million others across our blue globe. And without even blogging a lot, let me say straight up, as a matter-of-factly, of course, Brazil will win this year’s WorldCup in Germany. Nimetangaza msimamo!!! No bets please, but if I was to accept any, I’d bet my first ever Q&Q watch, my entire Intro & Gerald Levert collection, the Chinese lantern and top it with a golden engraved bracelet my first love gave me. That’s how much trust I have in the Seleção. God-willing, this time round we will witness unreal, unmatched and raw talent explode from Munich to Dortmund. We will be thrilled and amazed by the greatest show on earth, but the ecstasy will double every time the yellow, green and blue regally match into a match. We will jot down score for score and reach fever pitch when the month culminates with the raising of the coveted goldware by Cafu.

If you’re still skeptical, here are a few facts that might tilt you. Brazil has a FIFA world ranking of number one. They qualified for Germany through a 9-7-2 record, and although Argentina had the same, the Samba Kings had a greater goal differential. They are the only team to appear at all 18 tournaments since 1930 and won it five times in 1958, '62, '70, '94 and 2002. They were runners-up in '50 and '98; third place in '38, '78; fourth place in '74. A record to behold in itself, but here’s the shocker. This year’s squad list is sweeter than candy and flows like a nursery rhyme. I bet even the germans themselves will be supporting Brasil!!

Cafu, Lúcio, Roque Júnior, Roberto Carlos, Emerson, Zé Roberto, Kaká, Ronaldinho (the Emperor), Ronaldo, Adriano.

The list is so spiced up that even a great player like Robinho, taunted by Pelé to take his legendary place, is not among the starting line-up!! That should be enuff reason to be afraid, be very afraid.

It's about time we add another star to our emblem. The Sixth Star!!

June 13th, 2100hrs, Berlin, Germany: Croatia here we come! Let the samba begin!!

Jun 3, 2006

Weed Bid

Ditch cig, smoke weed


i must confess, this hiatus business is quite cool. i managed to recharge, major!!! And not to mention reflect, revive, reconnect and reorganize. over this period of "separation", i missed someone greatly, i think she was busy not missing me that much from the shores of some lake in burundi. well i did my "retaliation" by going to mombasa and the shores of the indian ocean. and the breeze as usual caressed my face with whispers of peace and relaxation. and i got rained on the beach, dripping wet for hours. juz have to love nature.

this period also brought me enuff insights and unusual drama. the one that was most amusing and one that needs a barb to the government for major "upumbavu" is the new law on cigarette smoking. now, we are made to believe that this piece of shitty legislation (for lack of a betta term) actually went through some intellegent discussion before it was tabled as a legal notice. for crying out loud, we know we have really dumb ineffective elements in the so-called government of national unity but we don't need to be affected by their ineptitude and desolate selfish thoughts. come to think of it, that sounds ironical - we just can't avoid it - we voted them in!

so they bring forth this "thought out" plan to eradicate smoking in public places. first, public places here means wherever people are; buses, matatus, schools, offices, govt buildings, markets, cybers, restrooms, residential etc, i think you get the idea. Virtually EVERYWHERE!!! that's all good with me, as long as i have no one to regulate what i do in between the four confines of my home. then comes the silliest legal loophole since the partial lifting of the ban on ivory trade. they propose that if you're caught smoking cigarettes the fine is Kshs. 50,000 or a jail term of no more than 6 months. now if you're caught smoking weed, the fine is Kshs. 10,000 or a jail term of no more than 3 months. Cute. I think my once hazy decision is now quite clear.

logically, am all for the bid to smoke more weed since its cheaper to ehhhh, and if ur caught anyway, its still cheaper to bail out and if you're unable to pay it, its sentence is lower. Heck, i love this government!! if they continue like this, they'll get re-jected!!! The Ministry of Health should anyway know betta - jamaz are rushing back to herbals and damn, this is The HERB!!!

I think they should be more creative and set up a commission on Weed Reinstatement & Related Affairs. Then they transform some of those useless EPZ's that help no locals to become weed packaging outlets. This should give us a new cash crop and ease overdependence on coffee and tea, and the much needed funds for campaigning next year's elections. Heck, we can even have a Weed Party of Kenya, like today's launch of narc kenya, the "non-tribal" party. that should spice up the political scene kidogo, literally!! Come up with a catchy tagline like "Friends that smoke trees together..... aah, no a friend with Weed is a friend in Deed"!! i'll design the logo and paraphernalia pro bono!! i already have ideas.......

and back to the fines. if i buy a cig for Ksh. 1, and am caught smoking it, where the !$^&#@ do u suppose i'll raise 50,000 to pay the bail? even betta, if that cop is willing to settle "out of court" with me, won't it make a new outlet for bribery. damn, i think they were right talkin' about creating new jobs. 500,000 of them!! They must be seriously smoking something else!!!

May 17, 2006

Chillin'

loungin' hiatus


Am about to lay back, kick out my nike, wrap myself in kikoi and lounge on my mid-year vacation. Yes that's in May!! The start of my Inspiration Triad - mayjunejuly.

Came up with the above illustration for a baby pillow advert i was doing. so i decided to tweak it abit with some cooln/warm effect, like my favourite months that come with rainy days, chilly nights and all the warmth of triggered inspiration.

//> i'll be chillin' til jun.

May 16, 2006

Bitter ama Betta?

***
















Realizing that as often as one of these doors closes on me, I have to decide whether to sit down here and be bitter or get up and concentrate on the others that are opening – become betta. I’ve felt the spasm of love lost yet I bask in the hope of a love waiting. I’ve felt the thud of my failures yet I believe if you fall seven times, get up eight. I’ve felt the disappointment of being looked down upon yet I gotta show them juz what am made of.

It’s all so good and easy layin’ the blame on others and finding all the wrong reasons why things turn the wey they do. But step back, take a look at the image on the mirror and learn through it. Be real with yourself – if you ain’t who will?

Leo amua, utakuwa bitter or betta?

May 15, 2006

C'est La Vie!

Paths crossed, paths parted


After the cutting of the cakes, the goodbye hugs and the farewell cards, reality sinks in.

These past weeks, i've had to say goodbye to five work colleagues, swept by the tide of time to pursue their life's paths. I've realized how much i gained from each one of them and started questioning myself when my path deviates, how it would be like. I guess we all have to accept the reality about life - coz that's how it is. Sometimes we lose people who mean much to us, some never to meet again, and some whose paths and ours will cross once again. In any case, we are left with the footprints of experiences we shared with them - good, bad, ordinary and unusual. To me like i know to many, their worth almost seems to double as soon as they're gone. Soon we realize how important they or what they represented were.

After the cutting of the cakes, the farewell speeches and the empty desks left vacant, reality sank in.

I thought we were going to be together longer. I thought to myself if i left tomorrow, what would i have accomplished? What did i gain from this path? What legacy do i leave behind? Did i add value to the organization, to the people i interacted with? Did i make a difference, however minute, or swam along with the current like dead fish? How this experience has changed or built me? Are these connections worth keeping? Friendships worth cherishing and holding? Have i achieved what i set out to? If not, why not and will i get there? Is it something i can live with going knowing i didn't get there? Will they feel the void when am gone?

Many, many questions arose from the farewells. One answer arose from the questions - Live today as if it was your last day. By doing so, you'll have no regrets, you'll aim to do your very best, you'll try to be at peace with others, and you’ll be at peace with yourself and what you do.

For Aissatou Sow, Norman Shitote, Eliot Pence, Sandra Kidwingira and Guy Berthiaume, I say C'est La Vie and Bon Voyage!

Aissa taught me elegance, power politics, persistence, pressure, creativity, friendship and unflinching boldness.

Norman taught me simplicity, realness, humour, patience, understanding, commitment and openness.

Eliot taught me how to push the envelope, humour, fluency, hard-balling and spontaneity.

Sandra taught me joviality, how to laugh from the heart, kindness, warmth, dedication and daintiness.

Guy taught me strength, self-pride and respect, creativity, articulation, humour, boldness, simplicity and friendship.

Thank you all. Whatever paths you take, wherever life leads you to, I pray that they bring you ever closer to touching your triple beam dreams; and that you know you left footprints along the trails you crossed – one of them being mine.

May 13, 2006

Signs of the Times

Jana a fisherman in Vanga on the East African coast caught a strange messenger - a tuna with Arabic inscriptions on the side of its belly. I watched the news mouth-agape, almost trying to deny the reality before me. Here was the calligraphic writing in front of the TV and so clear i could easily read it - "Allahu Khairun Razikin", translated "God is the Best Provider".

For my feeble faith, i had notions of it being some sort of trick, maybe someone made them on the fish. But to my artistic amazement (and i've seen enough forgeries), the inscription was embossed and blended with the shades of different colours on the tuna's body. Now that was enuff to make my doubts succumb.


The crowd looked equally awed; and i deeply appreciated the fact that here was a fish with Arabic writings caught in a region where the populace depended on fishing for their providence and sustenance and were Arabic literate. Imagine that.....


"He it is Who shows you His signs and sends down for you sustenance from heaven, and none minds but he who turns to Him again and again." - Quran Chapter 40, verse 13.

May 10, 2006

Unbloggable

Hii ni fumbo, kwa wenye fahamu...


She tells me her predicament weeping, says she reckons her man's creeping, when he should be zipping, it got her whole world tripping, she can feel the weight heaping, she's confused on the love she has been sipping, wonderin' if she should continue keeping, am dumbfounded near flipping, askin' myself so many questions clipping.

Firstly, i never intend to turn this blogsite into some venting out forum, i view it as a creative outlet, a gallery of thought and a search for tranquility. But since am human, which means i come with all the vulnerability, insecurities and feebleness that our kind possess, sometimes i see or hear stuff that makes me wanna holla! So i keep that roll of questioning going.

How in the world, that same world you grew knowing concern and care, can you explain total lack of caring and zilch concern? How do you start understanding when you have sown all the right seeds and yet harvest lack of understanding? How do you reconcile trust when it's scattered all over with the broken pieces of hopes and convictions that you built over time? Why should you be the one whose always gentle and compassionate? Why should you be the understanding one when shit is always hitting your face? Why should you be the one to go all the way, ignoring all the stop signs, when you know you should meet half-way? Why should you expect the other side of the bargain to be kept instead of demanding it? Why should you flatter yourself things will change for the better when all the signs are blaring hell no, they'll only get worse? Why can't you jump ship even though you are the captain and wade through to better ships? Why should you be the one to make it right when you aint the one who made it wrong in the first place? Why can't you be wrong, aren't you human after all? And human is to err. How many times will you go through the same bridge to realize the water's underneath?

I keep these questions when i see people going thru' stuff they shouldn't. When i go through episodes i shouldn't. And maybe even if they are necessary so that we learn what life's all about, i keep them to balance between my thoughts, my reality and my ideal. Tell me, how do you reach out to someone when they've reached the point of fearing no loss?

May 9, 2006

Adrenalin

***


There’s only one word to effectively describe this past weekend. That word is Adrenalin. Try a concoction of Torque, Supercross and MI:III. Friday took off with a blast and though it rained cats and dogs, I could feel the distant heat that would characterize my weekend. That is what it was and it was a positive thing ‘coz I needed some jerking up after some dreary days working on nothingness at the office. Sato was a lot more on the edge. It started off like Mulatin’s soulful jazz “My Own Memory”, with the pangs and thrust of highness. Shopped around for some inspiration and I got it in a designer wardrobe that would be able to hold all my earthly possessions – that means a roll of clothes, stacks of endless paper and a thousand or so CDs. It gave me the inspiration to redeco my place.

Went around the wey to see Nur and got him fixated on his raw black Honda superbike. With its almost entire parts lying on the floor, it looked more intimidating and ironically fragile. But after takin’ a spin round tao with it, I confirmed that it was truly nerve-racking but not in the least fragile. The full-thrust roar of its v4 engine translated to the exhaust end is enuff to make you shudder in psyched trepidation. This beast reached 150kph in a blinking 5 seconds and cruises at a top 240kph – that’s when you feel your heart and soul floating outside your body, sailing behind the bike just close enuff to reconnect back when you come to a halt.

When I entered the movie theatre to watch the premier of MI:III, I was still high from the lethal doze of velocity I had had before. But to keep it there, I wanted more action and action extraordinaire I got. MI:III’s storyline is very cliché – bad guys, good guys, one man saves whole world from terrorists holding the deadliest weapon ever known to man, rogue nations, all those fancy agencies shit. But, despite a very poor sequel in terms of story, the execution takes movie makin’ a notch higher, the effects were awesome, unbelievable stunts and technology made believable. The last time I left the cinema still hanging on to the thud of explosions, knowing I was cheated but yet believed, was when I saw XXX.

As if that wasn’t enuff, I got an anticipated email from an ol’school flame and for the entire afternoon, I reminisced on them dayz when I wished silently….and when I cruised at 240kph zooming past all the red stop signs as if they were mirages.

May 4, 2006

Ghetto Langu

Oldhood revisited



Am cruising along Jogoo road, the vibrantly repainted aged bungalows on either side of the road zooming past in a trail of colour. Am headed deep into Eastlands to meet my couzin then onward to Doni to check Mike. Around the stadium there are stretches of mitumba vendors displaying must-have ndulaz from nike to adidas. Dotted in between the alleys of this market are mei guys busy roasting maize from jan to dec. Kuna watu kibao streaming the whole area like a festival of worker bees; everyone full of activity in their own small world, a world that knows no serenity. Am instantly reminded of ghetto langu becoz these are the same things I see there. Here there’s no fresh air only stench. No roads just potholes, garbage sites and mud filled dirt paths. No lighting just kerosene lamps and candles. No entertainment just bars and more bars. No evening siestas juz the sound of gunshots or dombolo. Here there are no full measures; people are struggling with less than a dollar a day so you’d get a quarter of anything – sugar, flour, oil, omo. I see some people chilling for ma3’s, some guy trading secondhand school uniforms and another staggering most likely from having a glass of cheap, locally brewed, undiluted changa’a. If the Russians knew about this lethal drink, they would have probably mass bottled it instead; for pure vodka would taste like tomato juice in comparison and be twenty times more costly.

The potholes are so gigantic, reputably able to “swallow” an entire city-bus in that brief instant when it goes in and out; once in awhile when el nino revisits, seeing children swimming in them. Everyone is trying to dodge them and just be in time to evade the biggest pile of garbage that you ever dumped anything on. Hii ndio ghetto langu, my old hood, where things never seem to change and where life has a fatalistic aura clenching the entire place.

My ghetto has a jobless corner right at the bus stage where we used to sit all day sharing jokes and stories, letting time pass us by and only break for lunch – if you had anything to eat that is. The stronger jamaz started collecting “road tax” from the ma3’s and soon it was a mafia-reminiscent operation. Next to the jobless corner, there are miraa vendors and can tell the shade from far from the green leaves hang there as advertisement, dangling from the top. This is where the journey to tooth decay and probable sterility begins. Still, people throng the place everyday looking for that chew to distract them from the real issues that starkly face them and never seem to shake off or fade away.

It’s a tough life but yet people still smile in the midst of their struggles. They sleep contented despite the cloud of insecurity hanging over their slumber. They still share despite the little they have. Still, nyumbani ni nyumbani, so every once in awhile I’d head back there and get reminded where I came from, what I’ve been through and what life’s real treasures are. Something nimefunzwa kutoka ghetto langu.

May 2, 2006

+1

**
Turning over another year in the journey of my life feels thrilling. Today, I add one more year to the cauldron that defines my experiences and therefore, me. It’s a moment that I fervently anticipate as I add more spice to the blend of Lenjo Maza Asad and hoping it spins forth a betta person; were we not created to become betta and betta?

Turning over another year in the journey of my life feels rousing. As I close the year gone, I pray this path I’m on leads to new zeniths of affection and achievement. Praying that its alleyways feed me with inner peace and outward connect. That its splints ignite my ambition to get full-blown like nitro, saying the hustlaz’ prayer “if the game shakes me or breaks me, I hope it makes me a betta man..”. Being grateful for this year added to my life, I’d walk away from troubles so that I can reach new heights of self-actualization. Am redefining myself and my associations, social and not. Am repainting my world portrait to synchronize with the hues of what matters most to me. Am reaching out to betta understand the messages of this voyage and taking these lessons to heart, reflecting on their depths, acting on their meanings. Am walking whilst appreciating the facets of moments that I meet in my trail.

Turning over another year in the journey of my life feels inspiring. Today I taste that momentous tang of inspiration compared to last year that left me bruised, hurt and vengeful. Today I’ve come full circle to be thankful for what it taught me, confirming my fears of things I needed to learn; made my brownskin a lot thicker, my comprehension much clearer. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes of yesteryear, I’ll remember well these lessons as I reach out to touch the silver lining of my skies. Until am free, am gonna keep it as realest as it gets.

The best message I’ve received today is from my cousin Miriam, she says “Happy
Birthday Junior, may you live 2 be black!!”

__________________

Congrats to Kasakwa for graduating from the Bachelor’s Club. Praying for the two of you that it’s blissful, harmonious and ever-blazing!!

Apr 29, 2006

Princess Encounter

***

The end of an era dawned on me yesterday. It felt like one of those life-long journeys splitting again to different paths; but one that i was to inevitably accept as it was time. It was my manager's last day at work and although it wasn't all marshy, the times we had made it some sweetpain. Me and her had gone through some memorable times together; at times she pushed the envelope on my limits and skills and i appreciate it now that i look back at it. She had a princely way of getting things done and as a true Fulani Princess, she was bold, energetic, enigmatic and freshly jovial.

Many were the times she entered the office and it brightened the day. Many were the times she entered the office and it put all the pressure on me. Although they were times we didn't see eye to eye, for the most part of our journey together, it was all so good. We synchronised and flowed with whatever we were doing and i appreciate this blessing 'coz i know not many people get bosses like that.

Aissa was one person who i could not call boss. It was unreal, unnatural. Indeed you could feel the power and authority she possessed but she came down from that pedestal to our level, whatever it was. She had a way of carrying herself with flowing boldness that did not overshadow her playful and easy nature. And that put her a class above the rest (i totally abhorr people who demand that u bow down just because they have title larger than life). Any outsider would be forgiven thinking that she was anything but the Manager. Here was someone i could walk in and out of her office like i was going to the kitchen for coffee. Free, open and receptive.

Aissa, you're someone incredible and one i definitely treasure and greatly miss. Whatever paths that life takes you through, may they be littered with the sweet music of warmth, love, affection and gigantic achievements. And may the Almighty bring you ever closer to your dreams.

Apr 24, 2006

FlossMode

Judging by the covers


More and more of us are getting sucked into life’s drudgery and mad rush. More of us are getting the cream so that we engage others in a nonsensical opulence show. They say people who watch TV are 40% more likely pressured to acquire things that they view in adverts, sitcoms etc., so I gathered I’d be betta off watching nature and people instead; it reveals so much more. Here I am, never understood what people who floss gain out of doing so, I’d be glad if someone walked me through it. I understand if I was to help someone in need, they’d have reason to hold on to that and my heart gets contented. I understand if I was there for people I care about, they’d be there for me; that’ll strengthen our bond which is a worthwhile thing. I understand if I treat myself to some out-of-this-world Turkish delights, I’d feel ecstatic and maybe gain some few needed pounds. Now what I don’t get is how flossing to people who have never seen me and those few who know me will enhance my life in any bit. Coz they’d definitely forget it, some wouldn’t really care and worse, some will abhor me for it. I’ve thought maybe there is some gratification derived from it (the buggy-jumping kind) but that “high” is so short-lived to warrant the lengths people go through to have it. I call it the “10-seconds-of-Fame”. I understand you can live very comfortably with life’s luxuries and designer items without having to wantonly and overtly exhibiting it. So why do people do it???

Again, I guess if I was the very-ignorant-have-nothin’-betta-to-do kind, I’d be jotting this blog from an
iPAQ hw6900 in open air at Java sipping on the most expensive cappuccino they have. I’d be holding it up so that the others around me get to see it. Did I mention I’ll have the new Motorola V3 Razr mobile phone along with the day’s London Financial Times of course all sprawled on the coffee table along with the keys to the LR3? Although it would cost me some spare change for the coffee, I’d pay using my VISA Goldcard, perhaps the Prestige Barclaycard and quit it just after a few sips, walk into the LR3, take time to close the doors so that people absorb it’s white leather seats and space-age looking interior (mind you like the one I have at home) and switch on the Pioneer entertainment centre. I’ll turn the volume to like 75 so the outsidaz recognize I had the sound installed for them. Forget about my ears, this is the price am willing to pay to make someone who hardly knows me turn for a measly 2 seconds and look. Even if they know me, I highly doubt they’re aspiring to become deaf themselves. I’d make sure every place I pass lingered with the scent of Givenchy Pi lingering on for minutes after I’ve gone. Those who seem a bit interested to know what that heavenly scent is, I’d quip its price, not its name. I’d let my real-conflict-diamond-studded Cartier Roadstar Chronograph dangle on my wrist. Forget about the weight and the number of people who died to have it on me, this is the price of bling-blinging. I’ll excuse anyone who thought I bought it for the time. The price is just under $9,000, quite reasonable for a watch, wouldn’t you say?

Thinking about this reminds me of the story about a guy who dressed up on all the expensive and trendiest apparel yet was content to go hungry at home. Talk about twisted priorities! I think floss is such a gross loss, have to toss it. Keeping it simple and stupid seems much closer to the reality of my kinda things.

Apr 21, 2006

Eight Cow Wife

A Parable by Patricia McGerr


When I sailed to Kiniwata, an island in the Pacific, I took along a notebook. After I got back it was filled with descriptions of flora and fauna, native customs and costume. But the only note that still interests me is the one that says: "Johnny Lingo gave eight cows to Sarita’s father." And I don’t need to have it in writing. I’m reminded of it every time I see a woman belittling her husband or a wife withering under her husband’s scorn. I want to say to them, "You should know why Johnny Lingo paid eight cows for his wife." Johnny Lingo wasn’t exactly his name. But that’s what Shenkin, the manager of the guest house on Kiniwata, called him. Shenkin was from Chicago and had a habit of Americanizing the names of the islanders. But Johnny was mentioned by many people in many connections. If I wanted to spend a few days on the neighboring island of Nurabandi, Johnny Lingo would put me up. If I wanted to fish he could show me where the biting was best. If it was pearls I sought, he would bring the best buys. The people of Kiniwata all spoke highly of Johnny Lingo. Yet when they spoke they smiled, and the smiles were slightly mocking. "Get Johnny Lingo to help you find what you want and let him do the bargaining," advised Shenkin. "Johnny knows how to make a deal." "Johnny Lingo! A boy seated nearby hooted the name and rocked with laughter. "What goes on?" I demanded. "everybody tells me to get in touch with Johnny Lingo and then breaks up. Let me in on the joke." "Oh, the people like to laugh," Shenkin said, shruggingly. "Johnny's the brightest, the strongest young man in the islands, And for his age, the richest." "But if he’s all you say, what is there to laugh about?" "Only one thing. Five months ago, at fall festival, Johnny came to Kiniwata and found himself a wife. He paid her father eight cows! I knew enough about island customs to be impressed. Two or three cows would buy a fair-to-middling wife, four or five a highly satisfactory one. "Good Lord!" I said, "Eight cows! She must have beauty that takes your breath away." "She’s not ugly," he conceded, and smiled a little. "But the kindest could only call Sarita plain. Sam Karoo, her father, was afraid she’d be left on his hands." "But then he got eight cows for her? Isn’t that extraordinary?" "Never been paid before." "Yet you call Johnny’s wife plain?" "I said it would be kindness to call her plain. She was skinny. She walked with her shoulders hunched and her head ducked. She was scared of her own shadow." "Well," I said, "I guess there’s just no accounting for love." "True enough," agreed the man. "And that’s why the villagers grin when they talk about Johnny. They get special satisfaction from the fact that the sharpest trader in the islands was bested by dull old Sam Karoo." "But how?" "No one knows and everyone wonders. All the cousins were urging Sam to ask for three cows and hold out for two until he was sure Johnny’d pay only one. Then Johnny came to Sam Karoo and said, ‘Father of Sarita, I offer eight cows for your daughter.’" "Eight cows," I murmured. "I’d like to meet this Johnny Lingo." "And I wanted fish. I wanted pearls. So the next afternoon I beached my boat at Nurabandi.
And I noticed as I asked directions to Johnny’s house that his name brought no sly smile to the lips of his fellow Nurabandians. And when I met the slim, serious young man, when he welcomed me with grace to his home, I was glad that from his own people he had respect unmingled with mockery. We sat in his house and talked. Then he asked, "You come here from Kiniwata?" "Yes." "They speak of me on that island?" "They say there’s nothing I might want they you can’t help me get." He smiled gently. "My wife is from Kiniwata." "Yes, I know." "They speak of her?" "A little." "What do they say?" "Why, just..." The question caught me off balance. "They told me you were married at festival time." "Nothing more?" The curve of his eyebrows told me he knew there had to be more. They also say the marriage settlement was eight cows." I paused. "They wonder why." "They ask that?" His eyes lightened with pleasure. "Everyone in Kiniwata knows about the eight cows?" I nodded. "And in Nurabandi everyone knows it too." His chest expanded with satisfaction. "Always and forever, when they speak of marriage settlements, it will be remembered that Johnny Lingo paid eight cows for Sarita." So that’s the answer, I thought: vanity. And then I saw her. I watched her enter the room to place flowers on the table. She stood still a moment to smile at the young man beside me. Then she went swiftly out again. She was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. The lift of her shoulders, the tilt of her chin the sparkle of her eyes all spelled a pride to which no one could deny her the right. I turned back to Johnny Lingo and found him looking at me. "You admire her?" he murmured. "She...she’s glorious. But she’s not Sarita from Kiniwata," I said. "There’s only one Sarita. Perhaps she does not look the way they say she looked in Kiniwata." "She doesn’t. I heard she was homely. They all make fun of you because you let yourself be cheated by Sam Karoo." "You think eight cows were too many?" A smile slid over his lips. "No. But how can she be so different?" "Do you ever think," he asked, "what it must mean to a woman to know that her husband has settled on the lowest price for which she can be bought? And then later, when the women talk, they boast of what their husbands paid for them. One says four cows, another maybe six. How does she feel, the woman who was sold for one or two?" This could not happen to my Sarita." "Then you did this just to make your wife happy?" "I wanted Sarita to be happy, yes. But I wanted more than that. You say she is different This is true. Many things can change a woman. Things that happen inside, things that happen outside. But the thing that matters most is what she thinks about herself. In Kiniwata, Sarita believed she was worth nothing. Now she knows she is worth more than any other woman in the islands."
"Then you wanted -" "I wanted to marry Sarita. I loved her and no other woman." "But —" I was close to understanding. "But," he finished softly, "I wanted an eight-cow wife."

Apr 20, 2006

Desidarata, the Past & Now

A long wey coming and still rollin'!


Thanks to tati, jana I stumbled upon graduates.com and as I perused over lines and miles of names, checking out familiar peeps I know from primary, high school, colle and uni, it dawned on me juz how much of life happened to us! Scores of them are abroad working, studying, doing their thing, living it up, some came back home to roost while others never left but they still done great. Going through the summaries of what everyone has been up to in the last 10 or so years made me proud, envious, encouraged, amused and impressed. My hustling-days right-hand guy Chris is up in Netherlands doing his studies & reggae thing. My boy Sassen went on to become a biochemist (finally your chem skills at work!), Ivan got two kids (imagine that), Laura’s in the UK (kept wondering where you dropped off the face of this solar system) and so ran the script on and on. The myriad of feelings I got while browsing these patches of my past reminded me of Max Ehrmann’s poem “Desidarata”. It used to hang on my uncle’s wall when I was growing up so I systematically memorized it. A little reflection and I think I internalized a lot out of it to live up to its very character. Part of the poem went thus:

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

I took the better part to mean if you compared yourself with others, they’ll always be someone better than you, so aim higher! And if that someone is worse off than you, be grateful. So here I was reading about people I hardly ever saw again after our last exam papers. Leonid, my primo buddy – that foto of urs and Ebal took me wey back!!! How life drifted us on such diverse paths am still trying to comprehend. Lilian, would you believe it, Lilian Geturo? Tati, I know why you’re missing in action. Louise Massawa, the Capo de capo of geniuses. All in all, I must say, this was one marvelous trip down memory lane. Am glad for those who are living their dreams. Am glad for those building their dreams. Am glad for those drafting their dreams. Am glad for those dreaming about their dreams. 2Pac said “Reality is wrong, dreams are for real”.

Am still scouring these webpages trying to reconnect with memories; there’s a certain high you get when you see the face of someone you haven’t seen in years albeit juz a mention of their name. Am busy reconstructing our classrooms in my mind, asking myself whatever happened to so and so; where on planet earth could they be holed up? What are they up to and howz lyf fairing wit them? Something I must admit though, what graduates.com does is something worthwhile. If I was to give bouquets for best functional website, all props go to them! Simple idea, very energetic effect.

For me, these 10yrs have seemed eternal. I’ve done Thangs!!! Been there, done that! Played the minor league, got bored, went on to the Major League, got it all played out. Now frantically searching for the next high…. I think marriage comes close! I remember we used to joke what it would be lyk 10yrs from then. It is past 10yrs already, look at all the @#$%^&! we’ve been through and we still facing the skies saying “It’s alright, praise God we are here!!” Lookin’ at the next ten am thinking, damn, funny how time flies, the key is being grateful for every bit of it, at that time. And God granting, am Keepin’ My Head Up for the next 10, 20, 30 mmmmmmmh …….!

Apr 19, 2006

Alpenglow

Inspired by Amina Darani

Alpenglow is an optical phenomenon. The name is derived from the German word "Alpenglühen" combing "alps" and "glow". When the Sun sets in the west, a horizontal red glowing band can sometimes be observed in the east. In mountainous areas such as the Alps, this can be caused by snow, moisture, and ice on mountain sides which receive the scattered red light from the setting Sun. Sometimes this rosy effect is observed in other non-mountainous areas. Once in a whilem i've seen it coming from Mombasa on the Kenyan coast and it's a sight worthy of visualising. I've done 2 graphic pieces on it - juz couldn't help myself.


Since i've juz come from taita hills, i think i'll coin a new word for the glow that comes from those majestic hills..........

Apr 11, 2006

mazalicias!

Some gem at the coast


Blogging from Mombasa feels differently nice. There's the heavy sting of salty ocean water all around me, the breeze caressing my face and the hot, hot sun kissing my skin. It's nothing like the coldness of nairobi..... and its inhabitants. Mombasa is warm, jovial, lively, human, exotic. It's a place that a stranger easily feels at home. At least i do whenever i come. But this time round, i not only caught the sun, the fun, the sand and the surf. I caught me a rare splendid foto opp. Alicia Keys!!

Yes, she's in mombasa for her
project she's doing for children struggling with Aids. And so being a proper die-hard fan(atic), my digicam was ready, my smile as always ever-ready and she was game for the shoot. CO, don't you wish u could have tagged along?! Am going to find this picture some golden artistic frame and hang it right in front of my home's entrance!! Talk about celeb status... You betta blv it HA and SS, she even gave me something else i can't put online!!

Apart from this really rare treat which left me not wanting to ever get back to nai (which happens every time am here), i get to sit in front of this endless sparkling blue ocean watching birds (sic) and the waves rising and falling. I amusingly study people strutting up and down the shore, littered with .......... aaah, many things. The beach football is amazing and the sip of tamarind juice feels blissful.

Ok, the giantiest of waves is coming, gotta catch it. Laterzzz!!!

Apr 10, 2006

Wanna Ride?

Mamis & Cars

There must be something inherent in women about cars. i think just like some men are overly protective of their rides, mamis are attracted to mobility. i have no idea why. Initial thoughts are it provides freedom, easens hustling around, is viewed to be somewhat safe and not to mention social status. My buddy Guy had a thing against stratified societies - to him (and i partly agree), this is just an illusion. Some opium for the masses to entice them. That's the same way i view this "thing" about mamis with cars. i doubt if its a peculiar thing in kenya only or elsewhere. Here mo and mo chicks value guys simply coz they have rides. Forget about the S320 Mercs, the Z3 BMW or the supped up Bentleys, just park your beat-down beetle across their way and you got game! And there's no shame, even though your lyrics may be so so lame. Whatever happened to falling in love with a jamaa with a KBS bus-pass???

Was trying to think what motivates some ladies to hang out taking endless rounds in ma3's, kukatiwa na the prospect of "free" rides. What possibly could blind them to the fact that the ride isn't after all "free". Some things confound me; i've found no lady to explain this ride's attraction to me. I guess some do it for the music..... like they have no tenjes at home. Some apparently do it to be seen to be "with-it" so they'd go for the bling-blinging manyangaz that juz came out. I simply do it for the art and grafitti in them - it's amazing things u can read (and learn) from stickers on a trip from eastleigh to tao.

In my rumblings and after watching 2 Fast, 2 Furious, XXX, XXX2 and of coz The Love Bug (Herbie), i've safely concluded the biggest motivation is speed. Hot, raw adrenalin. Jijazie the rest.........

Apr 9, 2006

Creative Expression

For the skeptics and the far-right-realists!!

Ok, so i write a story like "Dream come true" and some people believe it happened to me. Just a clarification for buddies like Mr. Softcity, it did not happen to me. True, am not about to deny that i've never been whipped in "love", but that doesn't necessarily mean every thought, every graphic i output is a result of that. I take my hue from very many different (some somewhat crazy) influences. So there you have it - don't believe everything i say.

It's something called creative expression, you know kinda like the ones Dan Brown does and he make millions out of. In English it's called Fiction.

Apr 7, 2006

TGIF2

Thank God it's Friday!


Dear Almighty God, it's me again. All praise is due to you, the Grand Designer; whose words would never end even if all the Earth's oceans were ink, and all its trees were pens to write Your words with.

Today am thankful to you for the rain, washes away our woes, our tears, cleansing us in more ways than we realise. Thanks for sending it now, it couldn't have come at a better time. Even though i'll get rained on, be wet and cold, i'll prefer the thought of this blessing instead of grumbling. Thanks.

Your ever grateful servant, Maza.