woman face

Photo: Courtesy 

0118Hrs, am here in bed with my woman. She’s tickling my jegekes as I write this. She’s funny and playful and beautiful, yes because she exists only on my mind! Well, I see you, those who were ready to run to my Bishop and narrate to him on how I have fallen into sin, that am in bed with a woman ‘reciting the Lord’s prayer’ and pLaying for the nation! All with the intention of inheriting my share of ‘Meza ya Bwana’ the blood and the body as I serve church discipline! See your lives, am still standing and firm. Am still in the journey to heaven together with those who are going, if they stop going I will stop too! This world is not my home but am not in any hurry to leave it, turihamwe?

Well it’s been a while since I did a long write, most of you have been asking me where the #DiariesOfABachelor went to. I didn’t know that you people read that much, however my friends Ken Kibe and Mosh Muchiri were of the opinion that I had a lot of umama especially after I started giving lectures on how the boychild should man up. They were even unkind enough to recommend me to join the women gossip club, Kilimani Mums, and become a woman representative there, can you believe these guys!? Well, I should have changed them as friends but I need them in my life. They tell me the truth always even when it hurts and they’d never sugarcoat anything to please me. They have had my back severally and have taught me on how to be street smart and live in town. The only thing they have failed me on is getting me a good girl to marry! Almost of their lady friends are in a stable relationship with the bottle and therefore their lungs are not so good, isokei.

Talking of relationships and bottles, my right hand man and brother Mussolini Dan and I decided to take some kaslay queen out on a date. Ofcourse it’s one of those tudays that you wake up with the right leg and funga a kabiashara somewhere, so you have tushilingi and decide to spoil your sheri, mamacita. Well, I had thought previously that this kagirl was my Juliet me being the Romeo, only to later on learn that it wasn’t a relationship but a business idea. So all I was doing was invest money and get zero returns! So this day I call Dan up and tell him we are taking mama out on a date, it’s like she was our girlfriend with him. Dan and I walked to the venue of the date, from town – about a kilometre and half, foolish men! We arrived and sat down to our orders. Dan is a modest man, he ordered his Guinness baridi and ofcourse the Church guy here ordered his Delmonte, we kissed our bottles as we waited for mamacita to get off work, take a shower and find us. An hour later, she calls to ask us where we are, we tell her and she says that she didn’t like that place so we go to another kaplace. Dan and I as good boyfriends, me being the foolish one, decide to change venues and decide to walk to another kahideout two kilometres further – on foot! The reason we are walking is to save on the budgeting, we couldn’t afford to ‘overspend’ on logistics and mamacita hadn’t eaten yet!

So we fika this other hang out joint, I call my heart beat and ask her whether she’s ready. She is. I tell her to shuka the stairs pole pole, minding her steps as Paschar Musyimi my cab guy is waiting for her downstairs! Eish, sometimes I think I was born a Luo but life and it’s hardships turned me into a Kikuyu! This kind of romance cannot be found elsewhere unless your software is Jang’o! My lady is driven to our place and there she finds her ‘boyfriend’ and the best man waiting. We exchange some lovie dovies there but we do not kiss. At this time I can feel Dan saying in his heart, “niggah here you’re lost, woman came in a taxi and we walked from town!” But to hell, boy is in love here like crazy! She says hi to Dan, lies to him how she had missed him blah! blah! blah! Good thing with Dan, he knows how to play and play well…he fits in! The menu comes and we order nyama there and ugali, Dan does his cold Guinness and I order my children beverage – Chai! Now my woman gives Dan a shock of his life, yes it’s the first time the three of us are hanging out together. She goes ahead to order a double shot of Jamesons and a Krest! Dan laughs at me badly and shouts, “brother!” Yes I am surprised too! How could they play me like that? Now there were two men (My slay queen and Dan) in the table and a child – me! I mean, how could I take tea like a baby? Anyway we threw that under the table and went on to have a good time. After a short while the nyama came and we ate! Everybody was satisfied and happy.

Now the hours are going fast but we do not even care as much. My chai has ishad and Dan has finished his bottle but our woman is still downing the whiskey glasses. She had asked for a second double and a third. At this time she had started talking kizungu mingi and was heading to the catwalks just like Anne Waiguru with hers that caused William Samoei Ruto to be restless. She throws us some laughter that makes me feel that Professor Hamo could only become my student at jokes! Man I felt very funny! Now, I do not understand how alcohol makes people fall in love that fast and hard. Suddenly she was saying things like, “Cyrus I love you and Dan!” How? I was her boyfriend and Dan was our friend, to love him too was equal to cheating! She told me things like, “Cyrus you are so saved, please love me like God!” Weh! She asked me to dance with her but she couldn’t make it to two rights and one left! She fell on the floor and lifted her legs high from the ground shouting, “That was my favorite song!” All this time Dan is laughing his kidneys off! I feel very embarassed and pick her up from the ground to the seat. She orders for her last round, swears it was her last just like she had done with the previous two orders!

She finally agreed to stop on the gulping and I requested for the bill! Goodness Lord! The bill had gone past my budget and there was no way we could have been written in the book of deni. This is where my nose started running, my ears sweating and heart beating like these drums of jeshi la wokovu! I do not know what to do, I take a courage walk to the loo, not that I was pressed, infact if I attempted a ‘download’ at the time, I would only have managed a storm of a fart! Uhm ofcourse I haven’t given any indication that am in a distress all this time. At the washroom, I text my guy Dan and tell him of our situation! The man is broke too and only had his fare home! Well, that is how we discovered Tala, Branch and Mkopo Rahisi….though we’ve never paid those loans and we are happily on CRB. They call us severally but we’ve become friends now and we just say hi to the customer care attendants and that’s it on the loans. Both of our loan limits were just enough for the bill, not even for the taxi! And madam slayqueen cannot do a boda boda even if it’s for saving her life! We paid and called the cab driver to drop ‘us’ which he did on debt! Now since we didn’t want to ongeza our Deni sana, we waited for the slayqueen to enter her gate and requested the taxi guy to allow us to walk the rest of the distance – foolish men! But boy was in love! Dan and I walked another five kilometres from town home, in the dark!

Well, my people, that explains why am still single. That relationship could not work, how? A woman who drinks alcohol more than her male generation is doomed! I have since left love and relationships to the rich only, am in a serious relationship with my Avocado. Avocado doesn’t drink alcohol and wouldn’t makee live beyond my means! The only relationship I have with women now is a photorelationship, wacha nipigwe nao picha tuu!

Well, let me go to sleep and tuck my hands in between my thighs and make love to my sleep!

Wendo nî gûte! Translation: Marriage works!




“I love you, I swear I have loved you since the very first time you walked in the hallway…” a tear drop, two tear drops and then it was a stream. The woman I had auctioned my life for stood there, still, our hands in eachother. I could feel the pulses of her heart in my hands. She was crying. She loved me too, I knew she did but this was the hardest of moments for the both of us. How was it that what had seemed like a perfect match made in heaven was ending in one night? Roza was my life literally. She was all I had lived for. She was a collection of my future living in the present. She was my happy place, she was my little heaven. She was my sanity. No one had me figured out than she did. All my fears, my mistakes, my flaws were hers to nurse. I knew no other love than the most authentic love this woman Roza showered me with. In one night, a cold winter night, the universe stopped at our feet. I pulled her into my arms and held her in a tight embrace. Her sobs grew louder and I cried. I felt her warm tears wet my silk white shirt. I hoped that the moment would last, at least for a lifetime. I was wrong.

June 2017. I had been invited to adjudicate an Entrepreneurship pitching at a local university. Nothing excited me more than the thought of judging through ideas that would eventually transform into amazing businesses in the future. I listened with the lust of King David watching Bathsheeba take a bath from his rooftoop, ready to ravage on an idea I liked. The young university kids were amazing. I envied most of them since I had no prior experience of enjoying life in campus. If anything, I would say that I was a proud graduate of the University of life! I however must admit that some of the pitches were as useless as some Jubilee candidate for the Kibra by-election. “Next!” the announcer called out. I was getting too tired already and I didn’t anticipate any more exciting presentations from the remaining students. The stealth sound of stilettos on the tiled floor somehow stirred me up. The steps were too careful and well paced that it formed some beautiful rhythm to the echoing walls of the hallway. I turned to see where the musical walk was coming from. There she was, in a floral knee length sleeveless dress. She had a glorious glow, light skinned, an amazing body, an amazingly sculptured face buried under a cluster of flowing natural hair. She smiled and I almost stood up to give her a standing ovation, truth is, some parts of my body had generously given a standing ovation already, do not ask which! For a moment I almost forgot that I was sitting in a panel. Lord or the rings! The lady had the most beautiful smile I had ever seen, the gap between her front teeth and the dimples on her cheeks were like the strawberry garnishing on a marble cake! Her eyes lit, I was smitten, turned on and laid at the same time.

“Good afternoon, my name is Kamene Roza and…” there was nothing else I could hear from then on. She did her three minutes, we clapped and my brain shut down. We did the remaining presentations in haste. With the other judges, we reconciled our observations, clustered those we felt like had great ideas and placed them under a coaching program. I was deliberate in having Roza in my team. She needed to be with me, or yes, I needed to see her again. We later briefed the participants, informing them that they would be placed under coaches for the following two months to help them firm up their business models and implement. At the focus group, I could not resist stealing glances at Roza, her majesty the queenness. We would later open a whatsap group for my mentees where we would be having regular communication and later be organizing for fortnight meetings. On my way back home, I could not stop thinking of Kamene Roza, the girl with a beautiful gap between her teeth and an ice melting smile. The whole journey of two and a half hours was for a heart counsel meeting. “Cyrus, dude you are running over yourself” the little stupid voice in my head wouldn’t cease tormenting my, well not so, tiny heart. Was it possible to be so fascinated by a woman in under five minutes? Or was I just mesmerized with no solid emotion to justify the feelings? I was uncertain. On reaching home, the temptation to call her was stronger than that of Jesus in the wilderness with the devil. To call or not, to text or just to sleep…that was the only debate in my head. I am not the kind of guy who would act on an impulse, ideally I take time to think through my decisions but on this one, I went straight to the whatsap group and singled out Kamene Roza’s number..

The phone rung, I waited with my heart pounding in my mouth, for a moment I thought I was doing it all wrong and wanted to hung up and then, “Hello…” the angelic melody of a voice on the other end. “..uh, oh, hi…” I stammered. “Roza, this is Cyrus, the group coach…we met earlier today at your school…you remember me?” I could hear me breath faster in between my words. The last time I felt like that was when my baby sister Nyambura was born and I held her tiny body in my hands. I had never held a baby before. The adrenaline almost killed me. There was a little silence. “….yes I remember you Mr. Cyrus…” I felt the perplexed sound of her voice and knew she was surprised that I would call her. “I just wanted to let you know that I really liked your presentation and I think that your idea is great” I have always known my way around with words. I swear I didn’t remember what her idea really was but I had to. She giggled and said a very warm thank you. “…just know that you can always reach out to me should you need any helo on the same, okay?” “Okay Mr. Cyrus” I wished her a good night and I went straight to bed! I was excited, very excited. I knew I was when I woke up in the morning to realize that I had slept in my suit!

We would later have light conversations on whatsap on subsequent days. She was oozing with a bubbliness of her youth. She was exciting to talk to and surprisingly she was way too ahead of her age. At 23 years of age, in her final year of her Bachelor of Arts Degree in Communications, Roza was beautiful both inside and outside. With each day, I got to know her better. She with time dropped the Mr. Cyrus thing (I hate that passionately) and was easy on pet names and Kiarie (I love that passionately) I went to visit her in Uni several times. We talked for long hours on phone when we had to. She sent me funny memes, I laughed even on those ones I didn’t find quite funny as well, I was just being supportive don’t judge me. We grew so fond of each other and by the sixth month we were already dating! I do not remember when exactly we started dating but all I know is we kissed and said we loved each other. We spent most of our weekends together, and the days she didn’t have classes she came over to visit. I enjoyed spending time with her. She was an amazing cook and very playful. She made me very happy. I felt alive. We played silly games in the house. She never did like my cartoons and I hated her drama movies, most of which she forced me to watch. She was sweet and quite stubborn at times. She was brilliant, had amazing levels of intellect and we spoke about my business, her plans for the future, our families, politics, gossip and generally anything under the sun. She had a great relationship with God and there are times she prayed for us on the phone. She insisted that I pray before leaving the house every morning. We fought a few times, am a jerk at times, yes. I never let her stay angry at me. Whenever she was, I made sure that I went to see her and make things right. Of course the peach biscuit yogurt, her favorite bar of chocolate and a bunch of flowers always made her forget my sins. She was adorable.

August 2018, Roza’s special moment. Her graduation. I met the mum and sisters for the first time that day. Her family was so appreciative of her and the mother seemed quite pleased to meet me that day. My girlfriend and the sisters had been brought up solely by the mother. Their father had long passed on when Kamene was still a little girl, in some tiny village of Ukambani. “Wambua R Kamene……” her sisters couldn’t hide their joy when her name was called out. She stood up with all the pride she could gather, she looked at me for a second and smiled, “I love you” well, I didn’t make a sound, I only moved my lips to mime, you know those things that lovers do in movies? Those. She would later travel home with the family after being conferred with the powers to read. She had done so well, first class honors was no mean fete. That was my woman, smart woman indeed. The distance was a factor of concern but we were determined to make it work. We still talked as much even when she was at home. We made time to video call once in a while and sometimes we could all be in a call with her sisters too. God, I loved this girl and I was certain that I wanted to do life with her. We walked through her journey of job searching for her. We toyed with the idea of working together in my Communications Consulting Business but we were both not sure of how that would go. She landed a job in a Public Relations Company in Nairobi and we celebrated. I had gone with her for the interview and she was hired the same day! How lucky can one girl be. The job was amazing, the pay wasn’t as lucrative but Roza was a hard worker and it would have been just a matter of time before she got a raise. We saw each other often, atleast.

Soon, after a few months, things started to change. Suddenly my Roza became busy, missing calls and delayed replys. She explained that her days were becoming hectic and work overwhelming. My exciting Roza sounded quite tired and less enthusiastic in our conversations. I tried to be as understanding as I possibly could. Sometimes she would just get upset or irritated for no particular reason. She would get angry for small things like me getting home and not letting her know I was home, things that never bothered her before. She would blue tick me often yet I could see her online. On most weekends, she claimed to be busy. We skipped a day, sometimes two without talking. The distance grew, and I began to feel like the relationship was straining. “Am fine, really” that was her answer each time I asked her whether she was okay. We planned to meet the following weekend and she promised to make time. It hurt me to feel like I was losing her, my jewel and the girl of my youth. I dreaded that feeling. I wanted to make everything right for her, for us. I would have executed a money heist for her. Or maybe selling both of my balls if not kidneys for her. I loved her dangerously. I apologised for mistakes I had no idea of, a because I wanted my baby back.

I met her in her house in South C. She was not glowing. She was crying. She was sad and her face quite beaten. “Babe am so sorry, I betrayed you, I betrayed us…….my boss…….” my heart sunk.







I know some of you, actually all of you will be hating on the photo attached here. Let me just make things clear, I was not in any backfired bleaching spree! I mean, how could I even bleach my body and leave out my face, legs and arms? Yes I admit that I looked like the Kenyan flag, Black, White and Red. I also want to make it clear here that, the God of meat had not visited me! I weighed slightly more that two packets of Unga Wa Dola! I was portable enough, yes let’s maintain it as portable and not skinny! Lastly, the black thing protruding through my right thigh is not a baika, please! I wouldn’t want to live with the stigma of ‘Kiarie wa mabaika!’ I guess we are clear now, aren’t we? All the same just like Asunta Loved and Maureen Ayub (nyina wa Mungah) and the other brare sister of ours Maurine Lloyds Kui would ask, am he mwi? Is he mwi? Am mwi us? Is me nywi? Nywi is mwi? Blah blah blah. In my other life, I wanted so bad to be an actor, a news anchor or a radio presenter. The only acting I do now is acting surprised, the only news I anchor is from the Newspaper and instead of presenting on radio, I am only left presenting myself on social media looking for future wife! See my life!

Now, for the tu_girls who’ve always imagined me flaunting my biceps and sixteen pack to them in our places of secret, well thank God, your day has come! This is close enough for your imagination, are we together sisters? Do not be fooled by the size of the shell, the inside is enough to drive shivers and shocks and electronic waves to have you bedridden! Well, size matters, we agree. Ama namna gani? See, I became this athletic (read skinny) for always running through the mind of my ex girlfriend Kenyatta Ngina, (I want you back love, please come back home) she used to beg me so hard to date her but my ego would hear none of it! She is the only girl I know would light up the stoff, make us ugali, cry to its smoke and still stay so in love with me! I loved how she used to smile at my lovingly and call me ‘My Cyrus’ maaaan for this one, I would sell my Kidney, Spleen, Pancreas and Scrotam to marry! I know that my father-in-law, Uhuru Kenyatta (read The President) would be happy to bless our union! Oh, come back home my Ngina! Thank you Lupita Nyong’o, the dreams of a Kenyan boychild remain as valid.

Back when I used to work for the Bank. Well, the only time in my life I got considerable admiration from even the least of expectations! I recieved fundraising cards for baby showers and surprise birthday parties! All because I worked in a Bank, where money slept! I won love from slayqueens too and theirs came in weird forms and styles from, “awwww CK, I love your tie and the color of your wallet!” to “lol Cy’ you’re funny, aki you want to give me money? I love your Bank colors!” What the heaven was that love! Anyway, they scored in making me feel ‘loved’ or was it I felt my wallet loved? So this one evening, the devil just decided to water down my ego, one that I had build with years of hard work! A man who had earned his own fair share of love and hate in equal measure. I tell you the truth, no one really hates you, they only have a special admiration for you but they wouldn’t nurse the thought that you’re better than them!

My colleague Ruth Mbogo and I left work earlier that evening. We were feeling fulfilled ofcourse after meeting our daily targets and we had been paid a few days ago! So our pockets were warm enough. I walked with her down the street to Pyramid Bar and Butchery for her to buy nyama. On the way, as always, I did my usual rituals of meet and greet, yes am a celebrity like that in this small town. Stop overs at my shoe shining guys, a friend or two, the kiosk lady who sells me airtime, an ex girlfriend, a secret admirer and at this point Ruth decides to walk on and leave me to my ‘pleasantries’ I pass by boda boda buddies near the Standard Chartered Bank. Here one of them, Jose Kings shouts at me from across the road and asks, “ala, chairman nîkîî wonia andû itina ûgûo!?” (Chairman, why have you shown people your buttocks like that?) I laugh it off and keep on walking, I was used to them making those kind of jokes anyway! For those who I meet later in real life, like Raych Njoroge, they always say that they thought I was cocky and proud and full of myself. So, I want to imagine that the feeling was the same to the many others who saw me this day! So I cross the road with the brevity of a Masai Moran creamed with the swag of Diamond Platinumz to a small food kiosk that was my side hustle. The thing with this Kiosk is that, I had intended it to compliment my small earnings from the Bank, I always found people eating there but never saw the money! So I thought that they were being served their money on plates and eating it instead of the food!

I always passed there in the evenings to do my maths for the day. As always, I found a multitude of customers eating stories! I say hi to all of them, hugging the huggables and waving the waveables! On this particular day, people were happy, or so they seemed since they were all laughing! It is here that my ‘Kiosk Manager’ Shiku, called me to the side. Well, I thought she wanted to request for more money to buy something that was missing. At our side bar, with the humility of a slayqueen begging the sponsor to buy her sheesha, she started, “Woiiii Cyra wetu, aki nakupenda sana lakini ka_trouser kako kametaruka nyuma!” Mwathani! I froze! In shock, I ran my hand through the back of my trouser and true to it, I felt the meat of my buttock! Weh! It’s not that I didn’t have anything inside, I did but the trouser had burst open from the entire hem joint between my pockets! How I hadn’t felt the cold breeze the entire day, I cannot explain. In a second my mind ran back on the day that was, all the places I had gone to that day, how I walked with pride in the streets and how my haters laughed behind my back, the thought of me in a gray, cut-to-fit, suit torn by the buttocks! I stood still, didn’t say a word again to Shiku, the first boda boda I saw there was my ride of shame home! I remembered Kinyua’s shout from across the road, the message sunk, but it was too late!

Enjoy your Saturday evening, won’t you?


woman sitting beside upright piano looking sideward

Photo: Courtesy 

It has been days since the last time we met here for our serious conversations. Things in this Country have been so wrong that some of us have contemplated going on holiday in Massachusetts (well this is not Murang’a my friend Mussolini Dan) until maybe Uhuru Kenyatta and Raila Odinga decide on what they want. At least for me, I made up my mind and elected myself President – of my own life (well before I get married and get a Dictator President of my life) Anyway, with or without them, life has to go on, as long as we are peaceful, as long as am able to take my wife to Bahamas (in my dreams though) and no one will ask me questions about it.

Now back to us. See, where I come from, when a young man clears highschool, he has to leave his mother’s house and go get a life. Well for me, I had done it earlier. In form three, I had actually grown tired of sleeping on the sofa-set in my mother’s small house and so I looked for a ka_keja a few metres from her’s. Ofcourse I still had food rights at her place. Eat supper, go to my keja then report early again the following day for breakfast. Sounds like freedom right? Wait until my mother popped in once in a while in the keja to see how things were being kept there, if we (yes my brother had later joined my small keja) were keeping it tidy – but ofcourse I knew she was looking for evidence of any possibility of a ‘she species’ having visited. So it was very tricky to beat a kagirl jokes to visit my crib. After completing school, I kept the ka-keja and now my brother had already joined boarding school so I enjoyed kidogo freedom until the holidays. Since I wanted more space for me, I could not continue living by the nose of my mother so I decided to look for a house a little further from her. Now since I was outside, I had to know how and where to be getting the 2,000/- for my rent. I had a good transition of jobs that I got, from small mjengos, waiting on tables in a hotel to working in a poshomill….we! I bought myself Timberland boots, a pair of jeans with my first salary (and that money used to vanish, just like that) and rent then am broke for that month! Again, my mum and I have been friends so I would still go to her place to eat in the name of saying hi to her and Tabby.

Now to this Queen of slaying! Well, I know that I love women (raise your hand if you don’t) mainly because am son to a woman and brother to a beautiful Esther David, so settling for one at that time was quite a challenge. I was in that age where as a young boy you want to keep all of them, because it was ‘cool.’ In any case, this one was beautiful, very beautiful and she had just cleared form four! (Hahaha I wasn’t this old back then, so it was okay for me) at that time things were already getting better and I had gotten a job with am NGO (yes, yes I said it though truth is it was a CBO but the money was good!) I even moved houses from a single room to a bedsitter! The joy of bathing, cooking, sleeping and ‘helping myself’ in the same space was overwhelming! It wasn’t long before my colleagues Mac Peters, Esther Chebeni Nyokie and my boss Ann Mumbua at the NGO met my Slay Queen and praised me for being with such a perfect work of the hands of God! Work sessions became shorter (had to since I was the team leader) because I needed time with my queen of slaying. To be honest, back then I was just a kawaida shagsmondos from the estates and I hadn’t know much about life. I remember my first date was at Comfort Nanyuki, we ate chai and mandazi, we didn’t stay too long and the second grand date was at Springfield Hotel where we feasted on huge Samosas and Matumbo Chapati (well, old habits die young) There is this one time that I upped my romance game slightly and took her to a picnic at the Land of Love (every Nanyukian who has ever been in love must know this place!) We ate crisps, drunk yoghurt, drunk soda with biscuits, made jokes and had our first meeting of the lips (my pastor should not use this against my present relationship with God, I repented haha)

Something changed my life completely at some point. My Slay Queen was from an affluent family and so she was well exposed. I later realised that my teas and mandazi were never working for her. We once sat at Dormans Nanyuki (I had a part-time job in an office there) and she ordered for a milk shake! I saw how her eyes brightened with every sip of it and I knew that I had finally discovered my girlfriend! With time I later discovered Pizzas, Burgers, Smoothies and other foods for the Queen! The hanging out joints changed from zero star town food joints to English Standard Restaurants. I discovered ‘House Coffee’ since I could no longer take chai in big hotels. Once in a while Slay Queen had her place at the table with a glass of wine and me with a pot of coffee (Jesus Christ my personal saviour) and sometimes she tried on the Jameson, so she went home smelling like an adult and I went home smelling of milk like a little boy. What am not telling you is that in all this, I was the sponsor. My small salary was no longer paying rent or buying me food, it was financing my Investment on the Slay Queen! Of course I was madly deeply foolishly stupidly in love! Things started going South for me and I never had enough, so I resorted to borrowing! (Foolish boy in love)

So this one day, I am a month late on rent. My Landlord and I were losing out on our friendship slowly. At some point, I could leave the house very early and go wait in town until my office opens and get back very late when he is asleep so that we don’t meet. I had given him the same story over the month until he had grown tired of waiting, “bado hatujalipwa, acha tuone hii wiki” knowing that my salary was singing songs of praise in the stomach of my slay Queen! So he called me on a Friday night to ask for rent money, I lied to him that I was in Nyahururu and won’t be back until the following week on Monday, truth is I was in the house, locked the door from the inside, lights off and speaking beneath the blanket in very low volume. But I tell you that saitan is a liar, the following morning, slay Queen had come to visit since it was a weekend. My Landlord was a tour guide and was not around on most weekends and so I thought it was safe for me and Lé Queen! My shocker was, the Landlord and the Slay Queen walked from the gate to my house – together! Do you still want to know how I felt like raising my hands to ask the Lord to take me? The thing I remember, is my mattress flying past me from the room, my stove followed, my clothes in the box followed, my wash basins and utensils flew their way too and the Landlord locked the door behind me! Slay Queen had vanished into thin air after the centrosinema drama. That is how I humbly found myself back to Mama Kiarie’s house for hibernation for a month and later to the church to stay with my friend Justus Muthusi until things stabilised again.

To my future wife, just as a precaution, I learnt the hard way so please understand me when we won’t do more of Java and KFC. In the meantime, Nyaithee Hotel still works best for me and I don’t feel guilty after my visit here.



Dear men, it’s not every lady that you meet wants a relationship. Some just want a friend and someone whose company they would love. Someone who’d take them through a phase or investment idea. However, it is very interesting to see how fast we men pitch for an affair the moment we meet a fine young girl. You meet a mamacita in a club, dance with her and boom! A relationship is formed. See, these sides of the earth, relationships are more instant than coffee or noodles!

Love and Relationships rubble my stomach. They freak me out. It’s only King Solomon and I who’ve failed to understand how two strangers meet and just decide to do life together. Reason why am still unmarried and unworried. The preachers can continue making me a preaching point and women from my church can continue speaking in hushed tones tucked in small circles within the confines of the church walls. My age mates can continue churning out babies like they’d use them to pay the Kenyan debt to China. I will still be here and unmoved with those conversations about how Kiarie should get married and stop adding weight without a wife! Ngahikania ndeeda!

In a society that is that electric and speedy, I still insist on being a traditional man. The way my grandfather and his mates used to spot a kagirl from the village and invest in wooing her. He would see a girl on his way from the herding fields and her from fetching water by the spring. The would look at each other in want, smile shyly and walk past without a word! That night, my old man would lack sleep and build mental strategies on how to approach the fine girl. He wouldn’t forget how her small breasts shot straight from the innocence of her youth and how her eyes glowed by the light of her smile! Her milky teeth assembling perfectly than the parade on National Celebrations! He would later, form a routine everyday of using the same footpath before dusk fall, only to see the fine yeng ghel! Soon enough they become familiar with each other’s faces, then the first ‘hi’ comes after a few ‘meetings’ then it evolves to a minute of conversation which evolves further into evening sneaks from home just to whisper into their ears amid the musical crickets, watchful stars and cold darkness of the night! In months, they miss each other, they long to be together, they cry and hold hands and make promises…they would eventually fall inlove, fall for each other’s company and become inseparable and they get married! My grandparents have been together for the last 60 years and not a single day has my grandmother left the old man for her home! That one there is an organic relationship. Well, I have had a relationship that lasted long enough – a record 14 days! I deserve to be in the Guinness book of world records!

Here’s the thing guys, a relationship should be as natural as possible. Get to know your person well. Go out on dates and purpose to invest in knowing each other. Know what she likes and what she doesn’t. Learn her fears and what excites her. See if you two are compatible even sexually, thought process, values, dreams for the future and that you enjoy being together and have real fun! I love my women with a sense of humor. That she has to laugh at my jokes even when they aren’t funny at all. I have a little boy inside and my playfulness is what my woman should appreciate without thinking am childish. These are things you would actually know over time and not after one handshake at a friend’s wedding! Is it funny coming from a guy who’s dated a girl he didn’t even know her second name? Guilty as charged! As they say, time is the truest test of friendships and its through it that you ascertain thoughts on someone. All this can happen even without posing ideas of a romantic affair, leave alone marrying the lady! Story for another day guys.

You guy my guy (in the voice of Wangeci Rubuya) it is never that serious. The reason why our relationships are ending this fast is because they start as fast! We get involved with people we hardly know and promise them heaven (not sure where you want saints like us to live with Jesus). Soon enough the holes poke and you start losing interest, feeling shortchanged. My brother, nobody bewitched you, your haste did! These girls of ours are very good humans. They will fall for your word especially when you convince them to a commitment. They will believe you and let you in without reservations just because you led them on! Resist this kind of saitan, take your time to build an organic relationship based a friendship and you’ll thank me later on your wedding day when I’ll be there dancing hard enough trying my luck on one of your brides maids!

I have made enough of these mistakes before. I have rushed even where I needed only to crawl. But I learned. Do not be like me. There is no rush to start a family. Do not listen to the rubbish of “count the years, now you are 35, by the time your first born is 18 you will be 53…..and that’s only the first born…..watoto watakuita guka blah-blah-blah” I will have made enough money for them and afforded them a happy life, with my young wife. Who knows, maybe I would have become President, and 71 years while my wife is 40 years…..aren’t Donald J. Trump and First Lady Melania Trump happy despite the age difference?

In the meantime, my vetting continues!

Happy Wednesday!




This weekend got me into a frenzy of mixed emotions. For the first time, in a long time by the way, I took time off to seriously think about my dating life and marriage. On Saturday, I was the emcee in the wedding of my pastor friend. From the moment I watched the bridal team make a grand entry, to the time Nelson held Sarafina by the hands and looked into her eyes with the vows and to how she shyly hugged his neck when the magical words, “you may now kiss the bride” rented the incredibly loud speakers inside the tiny church at AIC Nanyuki, I had my heart suffer an adrenaline rush. I have always considered myself ‘man enough’ to be emotionally turned on by sweet romantic moments like those. I mean, how do men afford to cry over weddings, I could understand the reason ladies cry even by watching The Wedding Show on TV, but for men to be fascinated by weddings, uhm those ones should be given skirts, tampons and bras, I guess, oh my bad. It was beautiful, the words “till death do us part” went with a thud down my spine. The thought of living with someone forever. Having the audacity to fart in their presence and still have them stay in love with you, or when she farts inside your blankets but still manage to look at her the same way, kiss her and love her more, without the thoughts of strangling her with the pillows for such a misdemeanor. That is what marriage is all about, or isn’t it?

On Sunday again, after the church service, and after the heartbreaking news from the team of visiting doctors – that am obese, at 93kgs and a BMI of 30, ah crap hii nyama sio ya mama ya mtu, there are days I weighed 33kgs like a plate of food! I joined a couple of friends to a visit to one of the friends’ fiancé’s home, to visit her parents. In Kikuyu, this is what is known as’ kumenya mucii’ grab your dictionaries people if you can’t decode this. So we got there to a very arousing welcome, a village of elders ushered us into the house. Very humble home just like this girl who’d invited us there. I will tell you about the food, am still full from the feast, the mukimo, ocean soup of waru and nyama, shafashi (I love shafashi to my bone marrow) and the avocado then the tea! Yes, blah blah blah… Kikuyus must sindikiza every meal with shai regardless. We later got into a conversation with the wazees, I did the round of intro and a short speech as to why we had gone there (okay, am unmarried, so what, I can’t talk to wazee?) the conversation got heated at some point, the elders asked for some time out as we regrouped to redraw our game plan. They came back in and we made another offer that was mutually agreeable to both parties. We ended up giving ‘Nyanja’ (run to your diks people, I me dikshonaris) and some kidogo ‘njua’ for the wazee and women. We became very good friends and the family of the girl accepted to have our guy delve into their daughter, whatever that means. They even broke a few sugar canes for us and green bananas. On our way back, I slid into some thoughtful siesta. The experience inside the homestead threw me into another world of emotions about marriage and the whole idea of it. Am I ready?

Me getting married has made me a person of interest within my circles. If it’s not my pastor preaching with me as an example, it is my friends passing their unsolicited advice and memes on me to get married. The truth is, I have never let the pressures get to me, I wouldn’t even know how to. I have been accorded honors of discussion in whatsap groups, called ‘Kiarie the unmarried’ and sometimes a gamaphobic, google is your friend my friend. We have had exciting moments through these conversations, I have made so much fun out of them as well and we have all ended up laughing. I have had mothers introduce me to their daughters with the hope of a spark but wapi! There are girls, beautiful, who have openly suggested their interest in marrying me, but again, in my difficult self they have found themselves comfortably in the friend-zone, and later family-zone. I have not had sufficient reason as to why I don’t want them but it’s just in the natural that I don’t. Ridiculous, I know. There are some that I have given the cliche line, ‘let us hear what Jesus would have to say about it’ and just like that am happily single ever after. I do not know what goes through Mama Kiarie’s mind but somewhere within her she wonders if it’s all alright with her son, as to why she’s not seeing even signs of a granddaughter named after her. She definetly would not ask me openly since she respects my spaces as much and supports my decisions, not the stupid ones though. She is kind, the kind that every woman would pray for a mom-in-law.

Truth of my heart: I want to get married, to raise a beautiful family, to spoil a man’s daughter with so much love and create for us a little heaven. I want to be the best friend to my wife even as I be a terrific father. I want to be the best friend to my daughters and sons even as I become an amazing daddy. That is my desire and I believe it is possible. My friends have criticized me for having unrealistic expectations from a lady I’d want to settle for. Some have gone ahead to suggest that I just take one and make her right, ati tutajulia mbele, noo I don’t think it works that way. That I should just mould her to my liking, nooo I further don’t believe that it is in my job to recreate a woman. The thing is, when you go for shopping, you don’t pay for second best when you can afford the best. Do I want to go for someone and when she doesn’t fit the bill I return to the store? I bet not. I want to settle for what am ready for. Girls are amazing, they are wonderful but not for us all to like in the same way. We all look for different things, there are those who go for the booty and the boobs while there are those who go for the deeper stuff, the unseen and unspoken. Is that right? There is absolutely no reason why we all should assume that we look for the same thing. Maybe yes I am living on a past break that took my heart down so bad, and yes I took the lessons with me. I would be damned to compromise on the same very mistakes that tore me apart at first. To be clear though, we can’t match with angels, am not one neither am I seeking to settle for one.

I am sworn to exciting conversations, those that excite my intellect and those that tickle my groin. I want to be silly, watch cartoon with her, have intimate walks at night while doing the road trips too. I want to go home to my friend and vomit my day frustrations on her as she bores me with her stories of stilettos and bras she saw at Mr. Price. I want to have a good laugh with her as we make fun of you all and your crazy fashion crimes and fake grammar on Instagram. She doesn’t have to know how to apply bricks of foundation on her face or have to be up to speed with the trendiest of fashion, her English doesn’t have to be perfect neither does she have to shave her brows. She doesn’t have to graduate first class or have a bad ass job as an auditor, nurse or doctor. She has to be real and honest first to herself and then to us. It’s the connection that matters most, in mine and every other relationship in the face of the earth. It takes more than a pretty face in a woman, it takes an honest intention to be true to herself, that is sexy in a woman.

Marriage is good, it is beautiful. There is a beautiful girl somewhere and probably she’ll read this. Keep your vitenges close, this is the year. Am ready and she is too!

Only Love Makes Us Equal,


On my way to work today, I find Mbuyu waiting for me right outside my gate. Him and I have been friends for sometime now. He is a street boy and he has in countless times walked me home in the wee hours of the night when leaving the office. We have dinner together sometimes, yes at some ka-kibanda in town that runs through the night. We talk about so many things, school (which am still struggling to make him consistent at Likii Primary), politics (he insists he voted for me even when am religiously certain that he’s not 18 yet!), girls (yes he has a girlfriend and am yet to meet her though) and quite often on life in the streets, such a hard one I must say, but he is very optimistic still.

So today, it was a little surprising to find him by my gate. “Mheshimiwa leo nimesema nikukujie nyumbani, juu sina number yako” he calls me Mheshimiwa. I laugh. “Aiii Mbuyu si umekuja mapema sana, umekunywa Chai?” well, these are some of the very few days that am lucky to have made breakfast, does it count when it’s just Chai, without bacon, eggs and cereals? I bet not. So Mbuyu says he hadn’t taken anything that morning, apart from his glue. I take him in and we go back to my tiny bedsitter. While inside, he makes a million and one compliments about the small house and I know he is honest about it. I pour him some tea and usher him to some chapati (which Mama Kiarie had delightfully made and called me to beba) he is excited and ravages on them without mercy. I watch him, he looks at me and smiles. “Asante Mheshimiwa” I look him deep in the eyes “Na Mungu akubariki sana” he continues, he touches my heart and I almost run a tear. He is kind, very kind and unprivileged. I wait for him to finish and he asks, “ule manzi yako alienda wapi Mheshimiwa?” I laugh, “Mgani Mbuyu?” it’s his turn to laugh. “Ule mlikua na yeye ile siku ukienda Nairobi..” he answers. “Mbuyu mambo ya wasichana ni ngumu sana, wewe wako ako wapi?” he looks at me and almost with a sad happy smile, “huyo tuliwachana juu alichukuliwa na Jonte” at this time I burst into laughter. “Yaani ulinyang’anywa dame? Si unaona kwa nini nakwambia wasichana ni wagumu?” he laughs too and dismisses me. “Umemaliza twende?” I ask him. He asks whether he washes my dishes, “aaahh Mbuyu hizo nitaosha nikirudi, sio mingi saaana” (the honest truth is that the dishes have been in that sink for a week) Does it matter anyway? We leave the house.

I am late for a meeting, yes but I realize that time with Mbuyu is therapeutic. It’s refreshing. He tells me of a certain guy who’s manipulating them, taking advantage of their vulnerability to benefit himself, “unajua alipewa one hundred thousand akaenda kufungulia bibi yake duka stage, muite huko kwa ofisi yenu umwambie aachane na sisi.” I know these things could be a little exaggerated but I promise him that I will follow up. “Mimi nataka kurudi shule Mheshimiwa ndio nisaidie hawa machokosh wengine, nataka uniform tu” I will rally a few of my friends and we shall buy him uniform. We walk in the dusty streets of Thingithu on our way to town, we meet and greet a few of my people in the streets. He gets amused by the number of people we say hi to in that walk, he says I know lots of people, I agree.

When we finally part, we take a selfie and wish each other a good day. It dawns on me on several things. I think about Mbuyu and his life. He does not have the luxury of a beautiful home, he does not have the pleasure of being in high places, he does not have the honor to wine and dine neither does he have a fair share of fashion. He does not have a privilege to love. However he is kind, his heart is pure. He is respectful, he is humble, he is bold. He is not stuck with the fear of what tomorrow brings, he is contented. He is hopeful and a dreamer. He is happy. I want to be like him.

I am not wealthy, am in debt, I have a billion problems and a billion fears; but I do have love, only love makes us equal.

Happy Wednesday people!