Wednesday, September 22, 2010

A high School Love Letter

Sweet Rue,

How have you been since we were last together? I hope you are enjoying your work. I cannot claim to have been well. The memories of that night keep me company every passing second. During the day, classes drag on and I hardly follow what the teachers are trying to drum into my Rue filled head. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I can ever find the words to clearly express the fire that you have lit in me- a low glowing fire that warms me even when we are miles apart. A fire whose glow has made me see who I am.

It is now preps time and if the teacher on duty catches me writing this letter I will be in trouble. I hope you understand the trouble I am going through. Writing this letter is not easy as I am watching out for the teacher on duty but what worries me is our boarding mistress. She despises me. I am not one of her favourite students (don’t ask why but I will tell you when I reply the letter that you will write in response to this one). Anyway, she might open this letter and read it because she has to post our letters. I hope my best watchman comes back to work soon (he is on leave) because he does all that you ask him to at a small fee.

You have no idea how I feel about you. I have told all my friends about you and they cannot wait to meet you. Having a ‘working class’ boyfriend is a big deal. I dream of our future together and how our children will look like. I dream of a big wedding that will be the talk of the year. I know I am still young but I wouldn’t mind being your wife. You are my first love and you mean the world to me. Did I tell you that I still think about that night? Please wait for me. I can even dropout of school just to be with you. I know it sounds crazy but I would like to ask you to be my husband. I promise not to hurt your feelings and I hope you wouldn’t think of hurting me.

Before I forget, I would like you to come for my visiting day which will be on the first Sunday of next month. You have almost one month to prepare. Don’t worry about my parents. I told them not to come as I will have gone for a trip during that weekend. Please do not fail to come. I am sure you know what happens during such days. Come with food (especially potato chips and fried chicken) and I need some money for shopping. I am planning to ask for sick leave in two weeks time so that I may come and see you and celebrate my birthday. Last time I enjoyed being addressed as your wife by your neighbors. I want to come and feed you on home-made food because I do not like the fast foods that you eat. I know that your house is in a mess and I have to clean it up. Don’t worry I understand you because I love you. My friends don’t believe that I know Nairobi city. Growing up in the rural areas and going to school there has not given most of them an opportunity to see the city (or even step there). They see as if I have been to another country. They love the things that you bought me because they are from Nairobi.

I would like you to send me your photo. I miss seeing your handsome face. I want to show my friends how my man looks like. I want the whole world to know that I love you and that I am yours forever.

I hope you love the writing pads that I have used. I wanted this letter to be the best you have ever received. I hope to hear from you soon if I don’t I will know that the boarding mistress read it and I will prepare for a punishment.

Yours in love,
Caddy.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Deskmate or Deskhate!

When I was young ( the age of class 3 to 6) sitting next to a boy was a nightmare. Before I went to boarding school, I was in a mixed day-school up to class 6 and most of the time the teachers had the final say when it came to the class sitting arrangement.

Its like they had a mission of mixing us or forcing us (girls and boys)to share even desks! So for the better part of my early school days, I had to sit next to a boy, share my books with him and never be seen outside the class with him.

We rarely spoke to each other and seated 'mixed' beat the whole idea of a deskmate and it became a deskhate! Instead of developing academically, most of us concentrated more on how to make sure you don't rub each other or your book does not touch his desk. If you ask me that was torture but maybe the older students in class 7 and 8 did not have a problem with that.

unfortunately, I never got to that level since I had to go to boarding school maybe I would have found out how mixed sitting was like.

But that was then and this is now or maybe not... I recently bumped into one of my forced-boy-deskmates and all I could say was "You have grown!"

Then he went ahead to remind me how I was 'Allergic' to him! I quickly reminded him that he was also 'Allergic' to me and being the man he is with his ego he defended himself and said that he was scared of -1- me and -2- being branded my boyfriend by the others. That is how awkward it was and I hope never to meet him again.

"Yeah right!" That is all that went through my mind but with time as he reminded me of how life was back then, I realized it was a stage that we had to go through. Liking the opposite sex comes much later in life and maybe the deskhate thing was too much for our age.

Maybe the teachers of today are not so old fashined and would never force their students mix-seat since there is no good coming from it!

Monday, May 3, 2010

Dealing with a familiar-nameless face- Survival tip

In life you meet all sorts of people. As you walk down the streets you see new faces everyday. Some are smiley, others are grumpy others are droopy while others a scrappy or Scooby-do-ish! Once in a while we identify a familiar face from somewhere and the name just clicks while others you just stare at blankly hoping that they have also forgotten yours! Well I have found myself in such a situation and all I do is smile through it all. Well here are some ‘Mish ideas’ that might just come to use when it happens:

When you spot the face smiling at you from far and ignore it and try to pass it absentmindedly. Now if the face says “Hi so and so” now you are in trouble because obviously the face expects you to call t by its name. For ladies maybe you can stumble through it with a “Hi girlfriend” thing or for jamaas you can use the “Niaje Boss or Buda” greeting!

If by chance you are with a friend and you spot the face you can work with the “Hi girlfriend” thing and the when she expects you to introduce her to your friend…ask them to introduce themselves since they can all talk for themselves! And by luck you will get a name for the familiar face!

The easiest way is to start a conversation with the face and pretending that you are old friends from somewhere. The best conversation keeper is asking about how his/her life is, are you in facebook? blablabla!

But the killer one is just passing the face without even showing any familiarity!

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Why ladies check out each other

As I was walking back to the office from lunch, a colleague of mine asked me an interesting question- “Why do girls check out each other?” Before I could answer the question found myself scrutinizing another lady passing by. It then hit me that it comes naturally.

Most of the time we checkout each other in a bid to borrow ideas from hair styles, what shoes to buy, handbags etc. This is what you need to do in order to stay on top of the game. At times I find myself choosing what I would want from another chic!
There are those superstitious people who think that by looking at them and envying what they have is like casting a spell on them. Well I think it is far-fetched.

We live in world where we learn form each other. Men check out other people’s cars and go to an extent of even discussing them. A car is the same as a handbag, a pair of shoes…you name it!

It is all about learning from each other!

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Makmendeness

Recently, I was going through some of my friends’ walls on Facebook and I couldn’t help but notice how the word ‘Makmende’ kept popping up. Unfortunately, those around me had no idea who Makmende was. It was only after some time that I learnt that Makmende is a fictitious Kenyan superhero with origins in the 1990s and recently put to the limelight by a Kenyan music group called Just a Band. They call him ‘the super hero of your super hero.’

The Makmende phenomenon has grown to such heights that one would think the man is real. The Americans have the likes of Superman and Spiderman who make criminals pay for the wrong that they have done. And now we have created Makmende to solve our problems as we amuse ourselves making up creative sayings to illustrate his super abilities.

Maybe Makmende will solve Kenya’s issues. Maybe he will work out his super powers and put every Kenyan’s opinion in the constitution and give Kenyans a constitution. He is among the Kenyans who do not want to see a repeat of the 2008 post election skirmishes that tore this nation apart. Maybe he will be the one to end corruption and bring those involved to justice.

Makmende has helped us realize that we are the ones to make a difference in the country and change the system. Makmende is back because we want him back. There is every bit of ‘Makmendeness’ is each one of us. As Kenyans we have the power to drive the country towards achieving Vision 2030 because this is a hardworking nation!

Monday, March 29, 2010

With a Light Touch

HUSBANDS FOR SALE!

A store that sells husbands has just opened in Nairobi City, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates.

You may visit the store ONLY ONCE!

There are six floors and the attributes of the men increase as the shopper ascends the flights. There is, however, a catch.... You may choose any man from a particular floor, or you may choose to go up a floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building!

So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband.

On the first floor the sign on the door reads:

Floor 1 - These men have jobs and love the Lord.

The second floor sign reads:

Floor 2 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, and love kids.

The third floor sign reads:

Floor 3 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, and are extremely good looking.

'Wow,' she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going. She goes to the fourth floor and sign reads:

Floor 4 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop- dead good looking and help with the housework.

'Oh, mercy me!' she exclaims, 'I can hardly stand it!' Still, she goes to the fifth floor and sign reads:

Floor 5 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop- dead gorgeous, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic streak.

She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor and the sign reads:
Floor 6 - You are visitor 4,363,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please... Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store. Watch your step as you exit the building, and have a nice day!

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

We fear rain!

It is way past 5.00 pm and most of the office desks are still operational.On a normal day computers are shut down as the clock ticks to 5.00 pm but today its different. Interestingly enough everyone keeps looking out the window and checking out the wall clock that is gaining momentum by the second. It is not the hot tea being served that is keeping people in the office. It is just water falling from the skies and some people call it "A blessing from God."

Rain is feared.It comes with its challenges and if you ask me most of us would rather be in bed than stuck in an office trying not to imagine the state of the roads! There are those who benefit from such weather conditions.

An entrepreneurial mind will rush to a whole sale shop and buy as many umbrellas as he can and immediately streets hawking the priced commodity at double the price. One is left with no choice buy to buy what there is. But the greatest winners are matatu operators! Fares will hike to an unbelievable price and they will not even hear you out when you try to negotiate. It is a 'board matatu' or 'wait for a better deal which is not going to happen soon!' situation.

There is one thing i have never comprehended.How comes traffic jams on rainy days are a nuisance in that they do not move?

We do fear rain...which is a gift from our Creator!

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Men being mean!

Listening to Maina Kageni and Mwalimu Kingangi go about their discussions on men taking care of children fathered by other men it saddens me to see the kind of pretenders living out there. Yes I know this is none of my business but since am not yet someone's wife and that I have girl friends who are also hoping to tie the knot it naturally becomes a major concern.

There is a guy who called in and said that he is unhappily taking care of a child who is not his own and that he is scared that the father might be a thief or a 'chokora.' This got me thinking...if this is his greatest fear it means that he does not appreciate the mother of this child who is also his wife.

Another one called in and said that single women should dispose off their children and start a new life with out the extra 'Baggage.' He went ahead and added that the children should be left in the care of their ageing grandparents who have nothing better to do than to just sit at home and relax!How sad!

Well these are just two of the comments made during the discussion.In my opinion I think that before committing to any relationship one should be ready to accept what the other partner brings into the relationship. Children are gifts from God and they deserve to be loved and taken care of.If you cannot handle raising a child that is not yours then walk away before it is too late!

Friday, March 19, 2010

Mish's: When it won't just stop

Mish's: When it won't just stop

When it won't just stop

My Hood

At least tonight I will sleep. I have just finished reading and I decide to look out of the window and see what my beloved neighbors are doing before getting into bed. Of late, it has become impossible to sleep since I moved to this place. I am not a heavy sleeper and my new hood is not a heaven of silence. I had to move from my old place because my former landlord decided out of the blues to raise the rent which I could not afford since I do not have a source of income. Being a student and highly dependent on my parents, I have to make do with what they give me. I was unlucky to find a house in town; I prefer my former house even though it is quite a distance from town.

I already know the type of people my new neighbors are. I have lived here for only three weeks and I can assure you that I have never seen a bunch of ‘open’ people like these ones. They do not have any secrets and one man’s personal life is my personal life. This is their policy and I am rather enjoying it. Funny enough, I have not met my neighbors because during the day, I am in school. I forgot to tell you that I am a fourth year student in a university in town. Anyway, I have not met my neighbors on a one on one basis but I know a lot about them and I can tell who is who when I hear their voices. My house which is a one-roomed house is wooden and unfortunately, I have not been able to acquire a radio or television set. I listen to my neighbor’s radio who does not own a television set; but I can assure you I have more than enough entertainment from my neighbors. The hood’s gossip is really entertaining and makes you crave for more. The most informed person in the hood is Esther; we live in the same building. If you are wondering whether she visits me, no, I know she is called Esther because I have heard my immediate neighbor call her. She visits Sue; my next door neighbor…we share a wooden wall that is not soundproof. I hear everything that happens in that house; it’s as if I am in the same room with them. Believe me, privacy is a thing of the past in this wooden houses. I have never brought a girl home because I know that whatever we do in that house will be known by everyone; in fact I almost whisper when talking on my mobile phone. I am scared of sleep talking because it might be vulgar talk and they might think that I am talking to someone.

Anyway, back to Esther and Sue. They have great skills in story telling and are a reliable source of information. Gathering information is their job because they are housewives and have nothing better to do. The funny thing is that they say things about other women who love gossiping and they call them names. One is left to wonder the difference between these groups of women who love making other people’s business their business. From two women’s conversations, I have learnt that a man called Martin is cheating on his wife; a Carol somewhere has an abusive husband who beats her up every night and many more stories about people I do not know.

Sue is a member of her church choir and whenever she is moving around in her house she has to practice her singing skills. She sings soprano and I think she feels that she can do better. She sings all the voices in a choir and believe me, it is not music to my ears. I don’t love her choice of music that plays from her radio but it is better than her singing. Her two daughters are a source of entertainment on their own. They are up to date with the new hits and they remix their way through songs. I enjoy their singing because they are just too young to understand what they sing.

Sue’s husband on the other hand says little in that house. He is always around in the evenings. I do not know what he does for a living but I know that Esther always tells Sue that she is lucky to have such a man. Whenever the two women talk about men, Esther never forgets to warn her about ‘men hungry women’ out there. By the way as I had said earlier, it is not that I eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, it’s just that they find it necessary to share with interested and uninterested listeners and I happen to be in the uninterested group.

The gossip is not all that I enjoy in this hood. Directly opposite our building is a local pub. It is never short of music unless the power lighting company has cut short electricity supply in our area. The patrons of this pub enjoy fighting and disturbing women. Once, a lady hit a drunkard with her shopping basket and spilled its contents. The other drunkards and passersby laughed at her and attracted some street boys who helped themselves to the lady’s things despite her protests and cries for help. I should have ran and helped her but it served her right not to hit men who think she is beautiful and decide to show her how much they appreciate her beauty.

Did I tell you that my neighbors are also good actors? Well as I sit here looking down on the street, I hear one of Sue’s daughters call out to her mother to come and see Martin and his wife. I hear footsteps in their house and Sue is really excited. She wants to go outside and be near the action. I am really blessed to see the famous Martin and his wife. I know his face. I have seen him on several occasions around the neighborhood. Anyway, Martin’s wife is screaming and swearing at the top of her voice. I notice three small children pulling her away from Martin as they cry. I think they are her children. She pushes the children away and takes off her slipper and starts hitting Martin with it. He seems to be staggering and only defends himself by unsuccessfully trying to get hold of the slipper. One of the three children gives her mother a cane which she uses to beat up Martin. The onlookers laugh at this ‘husband beating drama’ and I am impressed by the little girl who has helped her mother beat the hell out of her husband. I see Sue running down the street and hugging Esther. They are glowing with joy and I know that they must critically analyze the domestic battle. Nobody dares to intervene but they cheer the couple on. Martin’s wife is now exhausted and she gets hold of her children. They go back to their house leaving martin behind. He has been bruised and the men start insulting him for embarrassing them. They did not understand how a woman can beat up a man and get way with it. Martin assures them that that is not the end because his wife must pay for embarrassing him. He blamed his poor act tonight on the alcohol. People start dispersing and I see Sue and Esther grinning and laughing. I am sure they will have a good night sleep because of such a delightful incident.

I know that I will have to get used to my new hood and try not to be friends with the gossiping neighbors; and not to be among their interested group of listeners. Maybe one day I will write a story about this amazing hood. For now I just need to concentrate on my studies and secure a good job so that I may look for a house somewhere less dramatic.