May 2006

I was watching an episode of Numb3rs season 2 last night where five Indian girls are paid $1000 to donate a kidney and are then flown to the U.S. where a botched operation to remove their kidneys leaves three of them dead. A rich middle aged man lying in what might as well be his death-bed is nowhere near the top of the organ donor waiting list, and decides to use his wealth to buy human spare parts off the black market.

It reminded me of an article I read in FHM SA edition three years ago.

Picture this scenario:

Girl wakes up butt nekkid in a bathtub full of ice. She’s dazed, her mind is spinning. Feels like a hangover but raised to the power of 10! In between shivers she tries to figure out where she is. No clue. She looks around trying to acquaint herself with her surroundings as her blurred vision slowly begins to clear (by now a black chic would have jumped out of the tub into her clothes and skwaleeeeed like a mad woman) On the sink just next to the bathtub lies a hand-written note and a cheap cellphone that doesn’t look familiar. She reaches over to pick up the note but feels a sharp pain in her lower back and decides to wait a bit before she attempts again. She runs her shivering fingers down her back and goes “what the f***?!”

She bears the pain and picks up the note and reads it. “Whatever you do, don’t get out of the bathtub coz you’ll die. We have removed your kidney. We’re not killers so you should count yourself lucky to be alive right now. If you want to live, pick up the cellphone and call the police and medical rescue personnel immediately. Here is your current location…”

After making a very confused call to the cops, an ambulance and her parents, she tries to recollect the events of the previous night. She’d gone to a nightclub with a few friends, had a couple of drinks, maybe more. She danced with her pals and she met a really hot dude who wasted no time in offering to buy her a drink. They sat at the counter for a while, flirting, in between two toilet breaks. Then…poof! Everything’s gone. Lights out.

Then she woke up in the bathtub.

This may sound like a well thought up story but it happened in real life.

Does this stuff happen for real? Strange but true, some things don’t just exist in our creative faculties. They actually do happen! I’ve heard of a couple or three other similar incidents. Here in South Africa! (What, with all these shifty Naijo brodahs all over the place!) You’re on the hanye with your pals, you leave your drink unattended ati to go take a piss then someone decides to spike it. (You can imagine some dude eyeing you and smacking his lips thinking “huyu msee anakaa ako na ma-kidneys fiti!!) Why no-one in a packed nightclub ever sees this spiking shyte happen…I’ll never know! (Ama its coz everyone else is busy soliciting for sex?)

One piece of advice a pal of mine who did his Masters in SA told me before my first year is to never EVER leave my drink unattended. Even with my friends! I thought maybe be was over-exaggerating things, but after I read the FHM story I decided not to take such risks with my life (vile some of us dished up that medical insurance cash! “Ati med aid? I’ve never been sick in my life!!” Tunatembea na Yesu!) My pals think I’m a bit paranoid coz I always have my drink very close to me and every after taking a piss I get a fresh glass and another beer which must be opened in my presence. Ati “Kwani you’re Biwott?”

Illegal trade in human organs is real, it’s a thriving business worth hundreds of millions of dollars a year. Spiking some hindiot’s drink is probably the easiest way to get the job done without attracting too much attention. Some unfortunate victims have had all their organs harvested for sale!! Lungs, kidneys, heart, liver, bladder, pancreas…the works.

Spiking opens up avenues for date rape as well. There are a few desperate men out there who have been unable to get laid using conventional methods so they resort to date-rape drugs.

So just be safe guys. There are some mad psychos out there. Chunga that pint otherwise you might end up in a freezer, afadhali the chic who woke up in the bathtub!


Kenyans are truly a unique breed! Only Kenyans can do some of the things we do. And it’s not stuff that we can be proud of.

I’ve been quietly following this whole vibe between Mental and Poi from my little ka spot. I don’t want to comment much on the issue coz I know it’s absolutely none of my business and it won’t be fair for me or anyone else for that matter to take sides blindly and start flinging accusations and threats left right and centre. And those who decided to join in the beef should have at least had the courtesy to verify their facts beforehand and assess the situation from a neutral perspective before making their conclusions.

I followed the link in Thinker’s blog to mashada where some individual went all out dragging people’s names through the mud. I wonder where he features in the whole equation. Dude defied basic logic (that Mental resides in the UK whereas Thinker’s based in Kenya) and proceeded to chafua poor M and call for his withdrawal from Mashada to allow for independent investigations. Later he apologized for his comments about M and said ati he was told by a friend who was a pal of who…that sijui who said what….whatefa!!

I’m not trying to start an argument with this dude neither am I trying to re-ignite that whole nasty incident. My beef is with some of our tabiaz as Kenyans. Kuingilia ugali ya wenyewe bila kuosha mikono. Being all up in other people’s business. Taking sides without taking into consideration the other party’s point of view (which I prefer to call blind arguing).

We are also dual-PhD holders in the fields of rumour-mongering (the more malicious the better!) and gossiping. Complete with adding our own version of events such that by the time the vibe gets to the 10th person, it bears absolutely no resemblance whatsoever to the original story! (The big question is: Is it just a Kenyan affair? Coz I’ve interacted with peeps from other countries but they simply can’t out-do us in this field!)

Admit it! We do love to gossip! How else can we explain the growth, or at least the thriving of “gutter press” publications? Coz we love to hear all the dirt! We want to hear all the juicy vibe! The nasty details! Which celeb or politician was busted doing what they shouldn’t have been doing under the cover of darkness? Love triangles seem to be the outright favourite. (I won’t even talk about the pics doing the rounds on the internet of Lorna Irungu allegedly having sex with a mzungu).

People close to me and my family have had their names dragged though the mud courtesy of the gutter press. And boy, it wasn’t pretty! Imagine walking through the streets of Nairobi observing wananchi reading crap about your folks and unleashing comments like “kumbe….ni mbuzi hivi?” and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it! Worse still is that the few who ought to know better still go ahead to believe that bull! I hate to see anyone’s reputation get torn to shreds without at least being given the benefit of doubt.

Why is it that we do this? Why do we desire to see the absolute worst in every scenario, in every person even though we don’t even know them? And why do we believe rumours and gossip about people we know? Why can’t we rise above petty issues and think logically? Why can’t we let people’s personal issues be solved behind closed doors without airing their dirty linen in public?

OK I know that by putting your private domez out into the open, you’re basically asking for attention. There we can understand the intervention. And you will get the attention you crave! But why do we offer more problems than solutions?
I’m disgusted at the way the whole Mental-Poi vibe was handled (on Mashada) except by the two of them of course, coz their reputations are at stake and they have every reason to protect them by providing evidence to their defence. It’s all the other “expert witnesses” who ji-poxed into the vibe and threatened to call thikwodi thibecio (special squad)…

Don’t get me wrong here, I’m on neither side. I’ve read both sets of arguments and defenses and viewed the evidence provided by both. I’ve made my conclusion. But it remains just that, MY opinion. It doesn’t matter what I think! I don’t know either Mental or Poi personally but they surely don’t need another nose being poked into their biz. I think they’ve had more than enough.

To paraphrase a certain well-known phrase, you can take the Kenyan out of Kenya but you can never take Kenya out of him. No matter where you may be on planet earth, you’ll still encounter Kenyans who think and act in the very same way. Rumours will still fly all over the place, baseless allegations will still be made, names will still be dragged through the mud and reputations will still be destroyed.

It’s sad. Very sad, especially the fact that you’d expect mature people to think and act their age but they decide not to.

We should learn to stay away from issues that do not concern us. That’s if they’re private issues that are not out in the open. We ought to offer solutions instead of creating more problems. This rumour-mongering, mud slinging and gossipping enyewe we can do without. Only then can we also get rid of the gutter press (!!!!!!) and all those characters who think and act in similar fashion.

It all starts with you as an individual. Think about it. If we can all strive to be the bigger person I’m sure we can influence those around us to act similarly and with time, hopefully society will change. Ama?

Bottom line: I hope all this blog-o-drama is solved with as little bloodshed as possible.

I’m sure some of you must have read KM’s post about the CFA (Convenient F****** Arrangement) where things did not quite go according to plan coz the CFA got married to some chic and instantly relegated poor Ms KM onto the bilaz train. If you haven’t read the post yet, search for it in KM’s recent archives (KenyanMusings) coz I’m bila clue on how to do the linking thing. It’s only my 3rd post so I’m allowed!

Many of us have found ourselves involved in a strokes arrangement at some point. I know I did, once in my late teens and again in the recent past. And me vile I’m such a kubaf, I made the same assumptions and mistakes the second time round. Never fall for the CFA coz you’ll end up getting hurt!

The thing is, how can’t you fall for your CFA partner? I mean, this is a person you’ve shared your most intimate moments with for a long period of time! The first time y’all get your freak on, it’s mad shagging followed by a cigarette! In fact, it’s magic! You appear, we shag and you disappear! Simple as that! Call a cab and send her home. Tena she’s paying for herself!

As time goes by, you get more and more open with this person even though you both know it’s only for the sex. No emotional attachments. Just the shag. With time you actually start having real conversations that do not involve sex. You get to know who the other person really is, and you just love the CFA’s personality. You share a laugh and you even find yourself calling her once in a while “just to say wsup.” You realize that within no time, you’ve fallen for the CFA!

But how couldn’t you? I mean, you obviously were attracted to CFA (that’s how the whole strokes arrangement thing started out in the first place, innit?) Someone whose face was the first thing you saw for many a morning, someone who you felt so free and open with, without the hustles of a relationship like the CFA getting pissed off when you decide to spend Saturday afternoon with your boys watching Premier League instead of spending time with her. Someone whose morning breath you even got used to and you could chat with for an hour in bed before the thought of brushing your teeth even crossed your mind! (ok now that’s just plain gross!)

It’s inevitable! Repeated sex leads to emotional attachment! At some point you’ll realize that the person actually means more to you than just the raw animal sex and porn movie stunts that you’re not afraid to try out with them. But you can’t let CFA know how you feel, coz that’s why she’s your CFA in the first place. There’s a reason why the two of you can’t be together and the last thing she needs is to know that her CFA’s fallen for her! So you play it cool. The sex becomes more passionate (on your part!) and you hope that she’ll get the point. The language of sex.

YOU WILL FALL FOR YOUR CFA EVENTUALLY!! 90% of the time! Show me one person who’s had a successful long term strokes arrangement and didn’t fall for the other person and I’ll show you a first class liar!

Then one day when you thought everything was going ok (guaranteed shag at the touch of her assigned speed-dial number) the CFA decides to spring the mother of all shocks on your black ass and pulls a disappearing act on you. You’ve been declared persona non grata, bila explanation!! After all, what made you think you deserved one? You were just a mere side-dish! Whoever heard of a side-dish having any rights?

You stare at your phone hoping it will ring but….naatsing! (Nothing!) You remember how at the heat of passion CFA used to wika to her ancestors and say you’re the best lay she ever had, and you hope that it still counts for something.,, but… naatsing! You attempt to call her but she doesn’t answer. Mteja hapatikani. You even call her on private number but she ignores the call coz she knows it’s you!

Get the point idiot, It’s over!

Ok so now you’ve been left high and dry and discarded like a used tampon. Coz probably that’s all you were to her, just a tool to get the job done. You find yourself back on the bilaz train, tena huko nyuma in third class on the wooden seats and found that someone was so kind as to keep your seat warm coz they knew for a fact that you’d be back sooner or later. (boy don’t I just love jacking KBW lingo?)

What next?

Heartbreak. Hangovers. Blog posts such as this! You swear you’ll never have a CFA EVER again. Never heeeva! Yeah, that’s what you said when you flunked the last major exams “I’ll never do last minute studying again!” but you still do. And you still flunk. Jinga!

The question is, what ARE the rules for having a successful long term CFA? Are there any rules? Or are we just lying to ourselves that the concept of a “successful” CFA even exists in the first place?

Some of the best relationships are based on lies and deceit, coz eventually that’s where they all end up anyway.


It’s just occured to me that I’ve been writing my posts in BOLD! Poleni sana. Ni ushamba. Still getting used to this stuff so mistakes do happen occasionally!


The big day is here! Finally! The UEFA Champions League final 2006! And who would have guessed that Arsenal aka the Gooners of all people would find themselves here? It all just sounds like a bad dream, doesn’t it? The way these useless gooner fans (who only wear their jerseys the day after a big game, and never during the game itself! Shameless cowards!) have been chest thumping ati “we’ll twanga Barcelona”….twanga WHO?! Barca? Y’all insane or what?

Let’s be realistic here. My boys Chelsea FC went all out (last season that is) with undoubtedly the best defence in Europe and the best keeper in Petr Cech. But even that was not enough to prevent the toothy-grinned Ronaldinho from giving instant salsa lessons to kina Gallas and Terry before thoroughly embarrassing Petr Cech with that shot from the edge of the penalty area!

However much Chelsea fans (true fans and opportunists alike) may have been on cloud 9 the last 2 seasons, we (with the exception of Jose Mourinho) do know a good thrashing when we receive one! And Barca dispatches such treatment with reckless abandon!

So what makes the gooners believe that they have the depth and quality that it takes to beat Barcelona tonight? What with all the toiz who can’t receive a decent tackle without running crying to baba Wenger? What makes their defence any better than the benchmark (Chelsea FC)? What makes Lehmann any better than Petr Cech? NOTHING!!

Tonight I predict a thorough thrashing at the hands of Ronaldinho, Eto’o, Deco et al followed by a trophyless and Henry-less entrance into Ashburton Grove next season. With the potential loss of Theuri Henry, Pires and Ashley (haha! Ashley!) Cole, I wonder who they’ll have for a captain! Sol Campbell? Senderos perhaps?

But Arsenal are known to win major finals (read F.A Cup) by penalties so in the unlikely event that they somehow manage to hold back the Barca onslaught and head into penalties, woi njisas! It’s over!


I have a lot of beef with this thing called society. What is society?

The Collins dictionary describes society as
1. Those with whom one has companionship,
2. The totality of social relationships among organized groups of human beings.

In my own words I’d describe it as a group of people in some form of association with one another sharing a common collective mind-set. (way of thinking) Several aspects of this mind-set are acquired from the previous generation and many aspects will be passed on to later generations.

Society sets its own unwritten code or rules over time and its members are expected to conform to these rules, and anyone who decides to be kichwa ngumu and does his own thing sticks out like a sore thumb and soon becomes the subject of societal ridicule or criticism.

An example is when Wambui Otieno married that ka-young dude, think his name was Mbugua. Days later there were joke sms’es doing the rounds ati Man Mbuguss died during the honeymoon and autopsy reports confirmed that he died as a result of consuming expired breast milk! Before we dis them, we have to consider that maybe, just maybe, despite the big age difference, there was true love up in there after all. Si they’ve been married three years now? OK maybe Man Mbuguss iss kamuaring some fresh milk elsewhere else…but that’s beside the point!

Maybe the Wambui-Mbuguss union may not have been a fitting example, but I hope you at least get the basic idea that if someone does something that’s contrary to the expectations of “society”, they instantly become the target of criticism.

So, who does society consist of? The typical answer to that is me and you. WE make up society. Ok, acceptable.

Who defines society? Who gives society the right to dictate to me how I should dress, who I should or should not date, who I may or may not associate with? Who gives this society creature the right to judge and label me however it sees fit nipende nisipende?

Should I always conform to the expectations of society without question coz I know the consequences of non-conformity? Should I limit myself to the box that has been set by society?

I think society is too quick to judge and label people who do not fit the status quo without making an effort to understand why they do the things they do. If one decides to date a white perosn, he or she is labelled an opportunist and a sellout. (Ati you think black ain’t good enough for you?)

If one dresses differently (of course differently is quite relative!!) then he/she’s labeled a wannabe.

If someone has a twang, a real one, not those forced ones (read Caroline Mutiko & Laura Walubengo) then they’re labelled wannabe’s.

If someone acts kidogo strange then he’s labelled a psycho, a mwenda and very soon quickly contrived urban myths will sprout up all over the place.

If one associates with certain people “he normally wouldn’t associate with” it becomes “what’chu doing with those barbies, ama can’t you stick to people of your own economic status?

If a chic has had three failed relationships (which were intimate…yaani sexual) in rapid succession, then she’s labelled a ho.

Why can’t chics date younger guys without being labelled sugar mummies?

Is this right?

I don’t judge others. Well…actually I do, secretly, but hey! It’s just my opinion, I’m a keep it to myself, you go ahead and do your thing as long as it you’re doing it for you and it makes you happy! That’s the bottom line! In the end, if it works for you, good! I’m happy for you. Baas. Tuendelee na maisha.

I’ve had my fair share of unfair judgment and ostracism in the past and it’s got to a point where I think to myself “just shut the f*** up coz you know jack shit about me”! I live my life for me!

Opinions are like arseholes, everyone’s got one. Just keep yours to yourself.

So what does it take to change the mind-set of a given society? I mean changing an entire society’s view on a given issue? The judging and labelling part happens so quickly, shouldn’t the evolution of a society’s view of things happen equally as rapidly? Or just a bit faster than it does now?

An example in Kenya is mixed-race relationships. Everyone looks at you with those eyes that just scream Opportunist! Malaya! Sellout! Wannabe! Pretender! Few people care where you two met and what drew you guys together. What will it take for people to stop judging people in mixed-race relationships?

What will it take to make Kenyans change their view on gay guys? You and I both know that there are several gay peeps out there and they feel the need to be accepted and not ostracized. Kenyans are a generally homophobic people, I can understand this coz it’s a strange concept to us. But I have a couple of gay Kenyan pals who you’d never tell are gay! I didn’t even know one dude was gay for like a year until someone told me!! The knowledge that he’s gay didn’t change my opinion of him though. I’d still hang out with him over my straight pals.

So what do y’all out there think? Hit me back with them replies, and thank you for reading my first post!

FINALLY!! Coz of this really slow internet access, it’s taken me three days to set up this blog, when it should have taken not more than 15 minutes if I had a faster connection. Ok that’s done now, I’m excited to finally have my own blog now. Stay tuned, first post coming soon. Hii ni ile ya “testing 1…2…3”!!