Dear Men…

I assume my position, that of an inexperienced and unmarried man but one with the wisdom of Solomon King of Israel and Cyrus the Prince of Persia. As a son raised of a woman and one keen to learn through my eyes and heart, here are my two cents.

I strongly believe that a man’s position other than of authority, responsibility is twice or even more as important. I have a great admiration to men who are incharge of their own lives and of those in their lives especially their women. A good man will allow himself to work hard and be on top of his game at all costs. A good man will take risks, fail in most of them but wakes up, dusts himself up and presses on. A good man will remain optimistic even when it feels foolish to keep believing.

On women; this is our greatest task on responsibility. You would be surprised to learn on the things that interest a woman in a man. And responsibility is one such thing. It is not your looks, your money, the car you drive, the kind of house you live in, your title at work but it’s the little things that matter to them. Responsibility for their emotions tops the list.

Women give as much as they receive and when it comes well from a man, they do discounts on top of what they give back. Her security is in knowing that you’re there with her, not just for her. Her security is in the assurance of love, that you won’t stop treating her well even when she is not at her best. That you will not wake up one morning and think that she no longer is as beautiful. The flowers, coffee dates, movies soup up the relationship but it’s the commitment to it that really matters.

Ladies value honesty, even when it feels stupid for you the man. She wants to know that you’re actually in the toilet and not in the kitchen, not because she doesn’t trust you enough but to satisfy her emotional want. She will call you a million times, send you a million messages not that she is interested in blowing up your phone, but because she feels safe talking to you. She will tell her friends about you, send you those funny memes, tag you on social media, not because she is showy but because she has you in mind most of her time. She will throw tantrums at you, get mad at you not because she has started to unlove you, but because her emotional strength is anchored to you. She trusts you with her tears and fears. As a man, you ought to take this responsibility and affirm her emotional security. Be there, even when it feels safe to run.

Men, women nowadays never look for superheroes. She doesn’t expect you to fight every man who hits on her. You can be her knight in shining armour by understanding your position in her life. Why she chose you over them all. She will care enough to go up the ladder with you if only you do her right. She will be okay when you tell her that you’re broke, and surprise you sometime in support. As long as you are man enough to know her worth at all times.

Men, it is no longer cool for us to date all the girls in our villages, or workplaces, or even in the praise and worship. It never is cool for a man to subject a woman to humiliation just because she loves you. It is cool when a man owns up to his woman, takes charge of the relationship and walks his talk. It is cool when a man makes his woman the priority in a forest of many other women.

A good man waits, for his perfect woman. He doesn’t have to be in every other relationship just because he is single. Only when she comes, it’s when the world would understand why he stayed that long.

A good man, does only one woman.

Divine Lust: Until Death Do Us Part

Photo: Courtesy

“….baby, baaby please, baby wake up, baby can you hear me? Baaaby, oh my God baaabe..” No repsonse. She had killed him, she hoped she had not. He lay still on their bed almost an hour since she drilled the whiskey bottle right through his forehead. The snow white sheets were deeply soaked in the red, color of his blood. Small pools of it had formed on the floor, bloody hand prints on her dressing table and on the bathroom curtain. The scene evident of a struggle that was. She had been drinking again, she had gone violent again but this time she had stepped a little further into her deep – she had murdered him. The only man who had a genuine love for her, the only man who had stopped loving his life for hers, and she made that a reality, she made his life stop for hers – eternally. She staggered down to the floor, shaking and screaming her pancreas away. For a moment she thought that she was hallucinating. She wanted to run away that nobody would ever find her, but her feet could not move an inch. She had only her bra and panties on and her left foot stiletto heel, bare foot on the right. His friends were coming over to his house for the new year’s Eve party…

Kelvin had not gone to church that day. He opted to spend the day with Shiru and later have his friends and hers join them in the evening to wish the year away. His phone rang endlessly since he was to lead in the praise and worship in the last service for the year, but he still chose to make Shiru happy by closing in for her. Man had totally sold his soul out to this daughter of a woman, he was deep and in love with her, or so he believed. Kelvin and Shiru had dated for four months but those were enough to completely transform him. Theirs was a relationship that neither the closest friends to Kevo, as they called him, nor Shiru’s could understand how it happened. While he was an ardent follower of Christ, led the Church Choir, chaired the youth in his church and often times interpreted for his Bishop in his sermons, Shiru was a complete opposite. She lived the true meaning of a free bird. She had a name in most of the town places that sold alcohol, made appearances in all social events and in every cloud of sheesha smoke, a possibility of her being there were ten out of ten. She wore the shortest of dresses, and often times her cleavage was out basking in the sun as early as 2 am! She smoked her lungs harder than the old coal train and rained bottles of whiskey on her liver in a storm. He loved her still, or so he thought.

He would take her out dancing nights away, just to make her happy. He would suck his one pack of Delmonte the entire night as daughter of woman hit them glasses of whiskey on the table for endless refills. He only danced with his head to the loud club music while she shook her behind holding on the metal bar seats and screaming at every change of song by the deejay. It was surprising how every song was her favorite! The drama was on getting her to go home at 3am since she still stammered, “..it-sh sh-till early boo boo…, shhtop being bo-o-ring!” Kev always dreaded the thought of not being enough for her, so the thought of being a boring boyfriend was enough to shiver him. He met her during one of his many office parties. He had just secured a job in an IT firm and posted to this new town. In his second month of stay, he had already found a Church, settled in it and given responsibilities! He was that committed. So on this evening, seated with his colleagues, a lady walks straight to their table and requests to talk to him. Innocently he agrees and moves a table with her. She engages him in a very intelligent conversation, they talk about work and politics, men and women. Kelvin gets much more interested and they exchange numbers. Within the first week they are already going out on friendly dates and they become frequent.

Flowers and regular woman crush Wednesdays become a thing for Kelvin. Status updates on whatsap and Facebook change in real time and long posts of love messages on Instagram. Before too long, Kelvin is in a relationship! All in a month’s time, and through this no indication of Shiru’s drinking habits. In one evening, at a colleague’s birthday party, Kelvin decided to invite his girlfriend. This was the moment of truth for him, the unimaginable happened. What started as an okay glass of whiskey (just for the night) turned into a second one, a third one and later to a shouting and table breaking rounds of whiskey. In complete shock, Kelvin tries to calm her down to no avail and soon she is throwing up and firing and hiring everybody in the party! In embarrassment, he whisks her away home in the midst of screams, kicks and insults from her. Getting to the house, she was completely wasted and fell asleep. He spent the night in her house just to watch over her. All this time he is in shock and unable to talk. In the morning, after she wakes up, she apologises for the previous night and confesses that yes she was an alcoholic! Son of man still in confusion, forgave her but he was so deep and in love that he started imagining that one day she would change completely. He could not leave her.

Series of drunken moments followed and sometimes Shiru got violent. To hide the shame, Kelvin resolved to having her drink alcohol from the house so as not to wreck havoc out there. He made the relationship discreet to most of his church mates who had started being curious on his constant missouts on rehearsals and meetings. Some of his friends had started talking him out of the relationship but he insisted that Shiru would change and that she needed him. She was beautiful, yes she was. Her smile would have been an enough collateral for a bank loan and she spoke with the soothing freshness of a cold Coca Cola in a hot day. Her eyes twinkled with the brightness of the stars that led the wise men and her body was a million times finer than Naomi Campbell on a runway. She was beautiful and any man would have dug a tunnel to keep her. Kelvin was no exemption. A hopless romantic, he made counless candle lit dinners for her in his house, took her to exotic dinner and lunch dates all in the faith that one day, some day she would become wifely. Dreams are valid and this one he hoped was one as such.

This one Sunday, Kelvin had made plans to go out with her for lunch and later host their friends for dinner. She did not show up for lunch, her phone was off the entire time. He waited in the house. It was until 6:30pm when his door bell rang. Shiru stood at door wavering likes the waters of the sea from side to side, she was drunk! He let her in, and all hell broke loose the moment he questioned why she was drunk and that she had kept him waiting the entire day! “…aa-am I your ch-child..?” She retorted. This one question fired up Kelvin who in turned slapped her on the face. The fury of a woman scorned showed up, she started throwing things around and at him including her shoe and clothes. Kelvin grabbed her and dragged her to the bedroom, he wanted to have her lie down and be calm but this was not to happen. He was bleeding from a few cuts endured during the throws of glasses and flower vases. It is when he put her on the bed that she reached out for the whiskey bottle on the bedside and hit him hard on the forehead. It broke on him and blood sprout with the intensity of a fire engine’s water pipe. He fell on his back on the bed and lay unconscious. Shiru staggered to her dressing table and looked at her face, on the sight of blood she crawled to the bathroom to wash her face and hands. Kelvin had not moved and inch. She came back and tried to wipe the blood on his face but it was still oozing and he lay still.

Shiru, rose from the floor. The thought of her having committed murder could not rest in her head. Shakingly and in profuse cries staggered back to the bed. Shaking him, “Baaaaaby waaaake uuupp, baby please, love talk to me…..baaabe…Kelvin don’t do this to me, Baaaaaby!”

The door bell rings…….

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

Photo: Courtesy

Hanging out with my baby sister earlier today was not just a date for me. It was a moment for a little reflection and insight to a question I fight with, within and without. A question about when I would settle down, become less busy with life, marry and start a family. I have gotten this for far too long from my peers, Church mates, my Bishop, my friends and family in equal measure. Well, not that it would pressure me, I know it’s natural for the society to think of me that way given my age.

So I sat across the table with my baby sister and rode deep into an imagination. She will turning ten in just six days so basically she would pass for my daughter. She is one child who has become my responsibility, not that she wouldn’t get that from mum, but it is just natural for me to take her in as my duty. I will care to know how she’s doing at school, what books she needs, what she thinks of her friend in school, what the neighbour’s kids think of her last birthday party, why she dropped in maths. I will want to reward her small acts of kindness, her excellence in Science, her commitment to small chores at mum’s and her discipline too. I will want to make trips with her to the malls or sometimes just random strolls in the estate when I pay them a visit. Ann Mumbua would understand why the kids in the estate call me ‘baba Tabby’ 🙂

Back to this post. I am at that point where I feel that I would love a kid running around calling me daddy. The point where I go home from a tiring day at work and the first voice at the door is, “welcome home honey, am sorry for the long day. Please take a warm shower as I make your favourite coffee” well you know the kiss and the hug would come with the voice as a package and my little boy/girl would run to me shouting, “daddy!” Oh, that gives me an adrenaline already! In a short while, I would not even rush to the shower but instead follow my first lady to the kitchen. My tie loosened, shirt folded and soon all of us are making dinner, together! We get teasy, a little bit naughty in a religious way, laugh out loud as we share the experiences of the day. Dinner is ready, catch a glimpse of the TV, baby gets sleepy so first lady and I tuck her to bed. We are left to ourselves, all night 😊

Relationships. This is where it matters most for me. I am one guy who believes in the principle of seeing the tree first before planting the seed. That it is never about, she is beautiful and with a career so I want her, no. That she is educated and comes from a good family so I want her, no. That she sings well in the praise and worship team, teaches the baptism class, fasts every Wednesday and prays on the mountain and in tongues so I want her, no! That she is friendly to my sister, buys me lunch and airtime , calls to find out whether I ate lunch so that I want her, no! She wears fairly lengthy dresses and skirts suits, she is widely so I want her, no!

I want to be a great father to my kids and an awesome friend and husband to their mother. I have been lucky enough to meet some of the most amazing ladies in my life but unfortunately my seeds probably were not rich enough. Not to worry though, I am a little choosy. Why? Because it is important that I see the tree before I plant the seed. So to cut on the literature;

It is important to marry at my age, but not necessary. It is not a condition for life. Well, I have formed this opinion. What matters for me most is, would the woman on my life make me a better man, a great father and a happy husband? Would she be happy to play with me with flour making chapati in the kitchen? Would she laugh at my jokes even when they aren’t funny at all? Would she call me ‘honey’ even when my mom is around with my Bishop? Or would she call me by my three names? Would she cheer me on when I dare to dream and correct me honestly when am wrong? If that’s what makes me happy? Without thinking it’s ‘childish?’

My fellow bachelors, as much as they say we should get married, let us agree that marriage has to be fun! That we shouldn’t lose ourselves just because we have let others in our lives. That we ought to be happy with those we settle down to. Do not succumb to the pressures from the youth pastor, that aunt from Bondo and friends like Mussolini Dan, Kishoyian Lemein, Lornah Mwaniki, David Nderitu Ndung’u and Wagutu. It’s for you not for them, let them marry first! Settle when it is right, when she is the right one, when you are certain that she will build you and not drain your Mshwari and Tala accounts!

Ps: The title of this post was very not related, it was an incentive for you to read! And this speaks for the bachelorettes too! 😊

MAN, TREAT THAT WOMAN RIGHT!

Uhhm…(clears throat) Hello ladies, (the gentlemen can pick their ‘hello’ from Adele) am on your side tonight, by now you might be considering me for the National Leader of the Women Representatives and my brother Maina Kageni as my deputy. Ama namna gani ladies? (Insert H.E William Samoei Ruto ‘s voice) I had a good day today, and a chance to catch up with my boys Peter King’ori, Niki Robert, David Mwenda Gitari, David Nderitu Ndung’u, Joe, Matthews Victor and a few others over sales at the Nanyuki Car Bazaar. We had our fair share on politics, business, cars, County Government and of course women!

Now, today is my little sister’s birthday. Ofcourse most of you have already met her, here. She is turning ten today. Ten years ago, my father made sure that we had a baby sister, and just like that he left the group. He had been the admin when my siblings and I were being added ofcourse after creating the group with my mum, he left at some point, was added back ten years ago but left again shortly after my baby sister was born! We have not resolved to add him back again, he maybe has started another group somewhere.

My mother, as an innocent 19 year old, fell in love with the son of a teacher. Of course back then, a teacher was as respectable more than an MCA is today. So my mum, the fact that my grandfather was a teacher, had plantations of tea and coffee back in Chomo Village, Gatanga in Murang’a, was enough to seal her heart over the teacher’s son. She bore me when she was only 20 years old (ladies, do it early your sons might just be as brilliant as me. Do not wait until you hit 29 otherwise…) yes, that young! She was later to be ‘blessed’ with two more children by the teacher’s son. And, the rain started beating her! She didn’t know that in such a young age, she would be taken from home in the tea plantations to Majengo in Nanyuki town to bring the children up alone, in pain and in shame, while the teacher’s son vanished into thing air. Thank God my mother, the most amazing of mother never gave up and that is how I lived to write like this. (Someday I will share about my experiences growing up)

Men, you see that woman. The very one you lied to that you are in a Kesha and truth is that you are kamatia_ring chini with another one at club Trendz Lounge Nanyuki Official. The very one you lied to her face that the waitress at Beisa Hotel is just a friend even when you know she is more to that. That very woman you fail to appreciate just because you saw another with a better behind. The very one you refuse to call back when you miss her call, or even fail to text back when you read her ‘hi babe’ message. That very woman, whom you call by her three names when you have sweetened the name of your tea girl in the office. The very one you have burdened with children that you careless about. That very woman goes through so much to stay where she is right now.

Man, I am no love doctor. Infact, I am just an amateur writer, a starting Entrepreneur, an ex Banker and an unmarried bachelor so my opinion might not count, but I am not ignorant. Women deserve to be treated right! With dignity and with love. She will not tell you that she loves roses and flowers. She will not say to you that she craves for chocolate and dinner dates. She will not tell you that she would love to watch the stars with you at night. She will not mention to you that she would love if you surprised her with gifts often. She will not say to you that she wants to be tickled, pampered and called sweet names. She will not tell you that she wants you to hug her from behind and whisper in her ear of how much you love her. She will not want you to assure her that she is your only star in her sky. She will not tell you to tell her that you love her food. She will not want you to tell her that she looks good in that dress and she is not adding weight. Do you know why? Because she believes you love her enough to know that she indeed needs all that! She has sold herself out to you, yet the fisis around keep preying on her but she is still loyal to you!

Man, love her a little more each day. Treat her right a little more each day and she will always love and treat you well every day of your life together. You cannot love two and be true, be loyal to only her. Ladies, do not take less from a man who does not match your value. There are a few more like me who are remaining, so do not waste your life with one of those who are not ready to man up to responsibility.

Men, do not fight me here please go fight to make your women value your presence in their lives, and become better men. Ladies, have yourselves an ‘am worthily valuable’ good night from me.

In a few hours, my friend, brother Rev. Reuben Karanja and I would be ministering in Maua. Therefore please allow me to iron my ministry suit and take breakfast so that I do not get late.

^CK

#DiariesOfABachelor
#ItMattersToLove

LETTER TO THE CITY GIRL: WITH URGENCY!

Today is day four here in Gatanga, I decided to tuck in my T-shirt so that you guys differentiate my yesterday from today. I told you that we resist changing clothes daily here just to fulfill the Rome and Romans’ phrase. So, am only showering legs in the evening and eyes in the morning. I will take a full hearing of water tomorrow for church. Are we together? I know Alfilinus Nyamohanga M called me a socialite and it’s with the elders now being deliberated on his forgiveness.

Now now, my fellow town girls – am not a girl but you are my own, my kind of cool. See, being here in the Countryside has given me perspectives that I find very interesting. Your counterparts from the village are a complete opposite of you, my people. Obvious, isn’t it? I will address the towngirls nation as a village boy, let’s no complicate things, I am a village boy oh sorry, village man! Boys are Kishoyian Lemein and Mussolini Dan. I did not know that I was this hardworking until I met myself this year, working hard in the shamba (am not boasting, am I?) and only men can be as hardworking – future wife please take note.

Now, when most of you town girls are reading this post, my girls on this side are milking cows. The only thing some of you can milk is milking a man’s wallet and Bank accounts, infact given a chance you would milk even the man’s blood bank. Village girl will then go to chonga waru and make dinner for the family then go to bed early. You, my town girl, on the other hand will be busy drawing your eyebrows and eye balls getting ready to hit the door frame at Club Numbers. You will down shots of tequila and more of Jameson. As the night dwindles and the sponsor starts to feel sleepy, you will settle on Konyagi since you won’t want to go home early. You will dance until your small intestines mix with the large ones and your lungs take a rest on the diaphragm! By the a.m, your voice would be deeper than that of Johnstone Mwakazi from shouts of, ”Uuuuuuiiiiiiii Shiru wa GP! That’s my favorite sonnnnnnnngggg, ooohhh my Gooooooood!”

In the morning, city girl, you will stagger to bed, tired more than a man working in a quarry. Your ass hurting from an entire night of twerking and shaking your bum bum. Some of you have have nothing to shake and as you try so hard, you only manage to shake their back pockets and jackets! On the other side of life, village girl will be up and will have swept her compound clean by the first day of the sun! She will make tea for the family and embark on her day’s chores, which she will gladly do singing songs of praise and worship, and sometimes of from Jose Gatutura in between. City girl, you will be late for work, and you will say that you don’t love your job and that your boss is nagging! You know why? It is an easier way for you to cover the guilt of the stinging hangover! You will lament in your entire shift, and will frown at all the customers on your table and will sometimes confuse their orders of House Coffee white with a Whitecap! See your life!

Yes, village girl went up to class eight and couldn’t continue with school. She wanted to be a doctor but her peasant drunkard father didn’t take her past that. Yet she remains as humble and not angry at life. She knows deep in her heart that should things be different, her story would change. She greets the elders in utmost respect and would not throw an offensive word back to anyone. Her mother taught her values and she sacredly stuck by them. Well, her English is not as furnished but she still tries. She will throw in a word from the dictionary in the middle of her fluent Kikuyu, “Kiarie dûgaCUT thimû, tûMEETi rûciû” (Kiarie don’t cut the phone ,we meet tomorrow) and she is happy!

City girl, you are as lucky as they get. Affluent family, good schooling and very well polished English! You will not give us peace in matatus, “You Kiarie, please open up the windows, we are fornicating here inside!” Well, it is suffocating my dear slay queens! You will further want the entire village to give you standing ovations each time you are around them. “You know in town, cabbages are for salad and not for eating ugali!” My sister, come on, your father ate the same cabbages with the same ugali all his years and has never turned to a mzungu! You will not say hi to the elders and other village women on your way even when they stop to look at you lovingly. If and when you do, you will pull a “Peeps you good?” they will lovingly smile at you and say, “Ameni, onawe taguo mwari wa ithe wîtu” (Amen, you too our beloved sister)

Town Girl, your sister in the village loves soap and water, just as you do. She is happy to smother her skin with Arimis, even when she risks smelling like a cow when the sun burns. She is happy to straighten her hair with a comb and hold a mosodo, or when she wants to feel a little sexy, she will let it flow over her head and face. She will be modest in her dress, long enough to cover her beautiful thighs and boobs. Her esteem will be high up there for she knows that she is as beautiful as she could ever be! City girl, my lovely girl from the City, yes you will take your sweet hours in the bathroom, taking a bath! Oh yes, you need that much time to even wash away your sins! Then you will embark on a construction project, I mean, it’s only a building that would need that amount of foundation! You will apply all mannerisms of make up on your face. You will end up having a very heavy face that you will walk facing down due to the weight! You will have a plastic face of a barbie doll and hands for a teddy bear. You will put on the shortest of dresses and show your cleavage to the world. You will soup it up with heels that elavate you to higher levels an you’ll be walking like one suffering from foot and mouth; limping and talking too much!

Village girl could be naive, yes, but she does a man at a time. She will love and mean it. She will visit her boyfriend in his home to greet his mother then they will have a short moment of conversation when the man sees her off to the gate. She will make the friendship so genuine and will honestly recite her feelings of love to the man. She will wait on the man until they end up together even when he goes to a far off land. City Girl, how are you? Well, one missed call and one blue tick on whatsap is enough for you to move on with another man! That if he can not afford a date for coffee at Java or an iPhone and one weekend spree then he cannot do you! Like seriously City Girl, seriously? That on the first day, you will be so inlove that you’ll hop on his bed in the bedsitter!

Am going now, but village girl will do one family photo in December and still has one from her days in school yet her life is very comfortable. City Girl, you take soda and mandazi and our social media spaces won’t breathe with hashtags, #MandaziManenos #LifeIsSweetLikeThisSoda, #FeelingLovedWithAMillionOthers! Woman! With these kinds of trends, you will also be sending #PeeingManenos on Facebook!

Dear future wife, if you have to be beautiful, for me it is from the inside to the outside. I am waiting on you at the train station.

#DiariesOfABachelor
#GatangaDay4
#VillageGirl
#CityGirl

I WILL LOVE HER, AND HER CHILD(REN) TOO!

Dear man, in profound humility, please allow me to take your mind down a memory lane. You remember her? The once gorgeous apple of your eye that caused you long sleepless nights, thinking of her? The one you once spent nights in the cold waiting for her by their gate? That one, the one you spoke to for long hours in the night on phone, woke up to very long messages of love, how she kept firing up your phone because you had fired up her heart?

Do you remember the day she looked into your eyes and asked you to take care of her heart? You remember how afraid she was falling for you but she still did? Do you remember when she stopped living her life because of yours? She called on you at work just to know how you were faring on. She made your favorite meal and washed your feet when you came home late and tired. She warmed your bed and sold her womanity to you. You ploughed in her thighs and clung onto her breasts, she let you, only you because she loved you. She kept her well very guarded and passers by would never get a chance to quench their thirst, even if they were dying. All because her loyalty was sold out to you. She gave you children.

Dear man, then you changed in one night. The long messages started getting shorter replies from you. They got worse, to simple replies of ‘ok’ ‘k’ and ‘noted’ You started missing calls and not returning them. She suddenly became a nag to you. You stopped bringing her flowers, taking her out for simple dinner dates and calling her ‘munchkin’ ‘pumpkin’ ‘sugar’ ‘love’ ‘babe’ and started calling her Nyambura. You raised your voice once at her, then twice, thrice and soon you raised your hand at her! The night you gave her a black eye, she loved you still. You came home late and drunk once, then twice and soon your clothes had strange scents that you lied were from your new cologne at work. The lipstick on the collar of your shirt was ‘accidental’ after a colleagues’ hug, so you made her believe. Nights that you never came home due to ‘work trips’ she stayed awake to pray that you were safe. Yet you preyed on some other she’s thighs and breasts. Her pillow became wetter each night of her tears over you. She soon lost weight and stopped caring for herself. She ran into depression. She questioned herself and saw her ‘unknown’ mistakes on the failed love. She blamed herself often and hated herself. She was so afraid that you would leave her for another woman, that you had stopped loving her since you didn’t find her beautiful any more. She was afraid of being alone. She stayed.

One day she woke up and had her mind made up. She was leaving. She finally gathered enough courage to step into her world unknown. She knew if she stayed she would die and if she left, she still would die, she chose death away from you. She had ran out of strength to hold on to a train that would never leave the station. Her well of tears had ran dry. Her heart had ran out of love and grown harder. The waters of her river had broken its banks. Enough was enough. She had to go, to find happiness for herself and the fruit of her womb. It was not easy, it never was to be but she did anyway. She struggled her way up.

Dear man, you see her now? Remember when you bumped into her at the shopping mall looking all glamorous again? Do you remember how she passed you on like she never had met you before? Do you remember how you stood to escort her on her way out with your eyes? Do you remember her well cut body how it fit in that sleek dress? How her round African bum bum twinkled like it said to you, ‘eat me with your eyes, looser!?’ Did you notice her smile and glow in her eyes? Well, she had grown over the hurt and the pain. She had grown over self hate and pity. She had grown over playing second fiddle where she needed to be a first. She had grown past mistakes of love to being treated for her worth. Along the way, she found herself. She grew over you.

Dear man, she met me. I corrected your mistakes and gave her life back. It is my turn now, does it matter that she has your kid(s)? No, it doesn’t! I will love her, and her child(ren)

Ps. This is for all the singles mums out there who took a chance away to find their own happiness. I am a son of a single mother and I turned out just fine!

#DiariesOfABachelor

KISS ME, STRANGER

Kiss me stranger, let us waste the night away,
When the lights fade and the cold lights up,
When the music stops, in your arms I drop
Kiss me stranger and take my innocence away.

In the dances of my drunken stupor,
Hold me closer under the breath of liquor,
As the beats from my heart stagger,
Kiss me stranger, kiss my shame away.

Plough deeper into these thighs,
Dig my garden and throw me into sighs,
Drown me under the bridge of our sweat,
Kiss me stranger and awaken the thrill of my groin.

Remind me of my wasted womanhood,
Charge my brokenness for being loose,
Nurse the wounds of my broken heart,
Kiss me stranger and erase all my memories

Climb on me and never come down,
Stay on top of my mountain,
Whisper in my year that it never will be okay,
Kiss me stranger and lie that you love me.

Kiss me stranger as we waste the night away,
When the morning comes we shall not remember
We shall soak in the foams of guilt and
Kiss again with a stranger and wash my sins away.

(c) Kiarie Mungah 2019

NAIROBI! RAT RACES, WHORES AND LODGES!

Weh! My Country people! Please allow me to swallow tonnes of saliva and grasp my breathe as brother Willy Paul Msafi opens with a word of prayer for us. Amen. Now good people, if Nairobi has not killed me yet, now it has! After tonight’s ordeal am making a humble plea to my personal friend and President H.E Uhuru Kenyatta to declare more towns as Capital Cities! Even if Sir you settle for Rumuruti town, it is alright! I know my Governor H.E Governor Ndiritu Muriithi is a well skilled man to handle pressures of a City. If it is proposal papers you need, my brother Kimondo Muturi has been writing them since his University days and has enough experience. I know that H.E Mike Sonko. has had enough of the City just as yet. What I have experienced today, from my imaginary wife an I, Nairobi issawrap but we shall come again to say hi to our big brother Hon. Sakaja Johnson.

So today was an exciting day. Not for any other reason but that my sister Esther David and I were going to visit our grandparents! It gave me an adrenaline especially that I haven’t seen them in five years, yes shame on me Cyrus! Shame on me! Who stays that long without seeing their grandparents? Mhhh. So this made me wet in nostalgia. Back in the days when the excitement of traveling to shags never allowed me to sleep. The thought of me in new clothes, travelling in the early dark mornings and watching trees ran fast behind us was enough to make me feel jigi jigi, back then. How we sat with my siblings side to side, of course it was only me whose fare was paid for amongst the children and as big brother, I let them sit on me sometimes. So in the bus we could divide the sides, I posses the right side of the window and the two take the left one. Everything on either side belonged to the person ‘owning’ the side, this included trees, cars, buildings, scenery etc. “Weeeewee nyumba yangu, gari yangu, Miti yangu!” These were the vibes in the bus, and mum couldn’t control the noise sometimes. When one’s side got boring and plain, they protested to move to the other side! Awwww (insert the voice of a slay queen) wasn’t that cute, orgasmic oh sorry nostalgic! That is how I was feeling in the morning, of course without the new clothes or the younger me! But the feeling of seeing my old people was soo imminent. I left my bed to some ironing, yes my shushu owns an iron box, but the last time I used one like hers, a piece of charcoal resisted from the box and landed on my Tokyo trouser, drilling a borehole right through its thigh! Imagine a disappointed me, for that was the only trouser I had that was clean and I had to go to church! I could not repeat the same at my shushu’s. Mum called in the morning to know the progress of the journey, I updated her and proceeded with the packing and showering. Thereafter I made strungi and sat down to sip it as I called my sister. Her phone was off! I tried her again severally but nothing. It is until her friend Pretty Laveel called and I spoke to my sister. Something had gone wrong and we couldn’t travel! What a waste! So we sorted out the issue and again I recieved a call to urgently get to Nairobi for some crisis settlement! Afterall, the bath got some use, so I picked my bag and went to the stage.

There, the matatus we’re eating with a big spoon and farting on people’s faces! They had hiked the fare to a million bob! Crazy, just because kids were going back to school. I chose to boycott. Luck was on my side, and the angel on duty for me did a good job. He sent a friend of mine who was going to the City and that is how I won a free ride! So we drove up here in between talks of politics, business, cars, women, Kenya, slay queens, moments of silence until we arrived. I alighted at Tea Room, said thanks and rushed to Kilimani, didn’t meet the mum’s and dad’s of Kilimani Mums and Dads Uncensored (Original). I did my shughulis until late in the evening after which I joined my friendpreneur and big brother David Nderitu Ndung’uover a cup of coffee in Westlands. I didn’t stay too long. I was feeling a little disempowered and thanks to my class A friend Caroline Murea, I got empowered! Carol, I am setting up a committee to prepare your rewarding ceremony for being such an amazing friend.

It’s almost 1130hrs by the time am alighting at some place near the Nation Centre. I decide to walk around looking for some hotel to sleep in. The City is still alive but not as congested as it normally is during the day. My first stop, Midview Hotel. I greet the soldier as I stair up to the reception. I get a shock on the cost of a single room, I go down the stairs cursing and saying that one day I will buy a lodge in Nairobi, oh priiisssssss! A few metres from the hotel, the soldier calls me, “Eeee poss, ulikua unatakeko nyumpa?” Yes, he was Luhya like that. I suspected he was a relative of Alfilinus Nyamohanga M which he hasn’t told Kennah Wangah about yet. I stop and he reaches to me. “Hisi siko na WiFi na tiifii ntio maana siko na pei” he continues. “Nikuonyeshe sinkine simati na sa pei ntoko?” I say yes. “Unaona kwa matako ya sile kari, nyupa siko hapo” I laugh as he tries to point behind the vehicles across the road. On our way, we walk past a parade of them sex workers and I hear “sksksss sskkss, uncle twende tukalale..” but I march past them with the swagger of a college kid who’s spotted a girl child in a funkie. So we get to this ‘simat hotel’ like my guide had described it. Well, there was nothing simat about it at all! Not even the receptionist! I decide I don’t want it and we walk out, one of the whore taps my thigh at the verandah but I keep marching on, reciting Psalm 23 ‘…..though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death….’ On reaching the corner, I too the soldier and I take my way into the search.

Man I tell you Nairobi girls are some great piece of work! If I’d be called to a Ministry, I want it to be ‘kutia kina dada Moyo na sio mimba ministries’ and be posted here, the Nairobi branch! Here, every girl is beautifeler than the last one. It would sadden a boychild having to leave 99 others just for one! But in my distraction, I keep reciting Psalm 23, ‘…the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want!’ I walk by hoping that future wife knocks me over, my bag falls on the ground, we both go down to pick it up, we both hold it and say sorry, we both look into each other’s eyes and want to kiss….! Damn! I guess I am keeping the wrong friends or am watching too much of Nigerian Soap Operas or I am simply hallucinating! Here is the thing now, it is getting late, am yet to find a place and having gone into a few and disliked them I begin to wander deeper into the streets. I find myself in chochoros where there is only one person or a group of people standing at a distance. I grip on my bag a little tighter as the the thought of being mugged creeps in but I man on and keep the recital of Psalm 23 going, ” …the Lord is my Shepherd…” I clearly do not have an idea of where I am and it’s getting a little scary. I hear my phone vibrate in the pocket but I cannot pick it. It is Nairobbery!

Mpenzi msomaji! I get to a kachochoro and find people running, I hear a few screams and shouts. One gets closer to me and says, “Nanii jitoee, wamekuja” So I run too, to where? I do no know! During the run, I deep my foot right into as pothole, oh my ankle boots, and the stench! Most of the runnees are women, in very short or no clothing. I stash myself behind a matatu and find another stashee there. It is where I learn that we are on Kirinyaga Road and the Cops were clearing the whores from the streets. I got caught up in the frenzy and looked like a buyer, cheeeii! A few more run past us and the Police Landcruiser vooms past too. Across the building, ‘Sunhill Lodging, Self Contained Rooms!’ I do not think twice. I run to the building and ask for a room. Well, I try to bargain the 600/- charged but on second thought, I do not wish to go run with the girls and police, I take up the room and am told to go to room number 80153 on 8th Floor! Christ Jesus!

The room is small, the slippers are marked, the towel is very old, the soap cannot even wash away tears, the tissues is only a handful – cut to only one download, the sheets are old. Well, my people am here clapping, not that I am singing praise and worship, I am killing mosquitoes who are happily ever after in this room, they are having a get together! There is a notice on the wall – but am stuck at ‘Pesa Runinga.’ I can hear what is happening in the next room – wiring! The loud music from the bar across is defeaning. I have decided not to enter inside the blankets, I will sit until morning comes, thinking of my master ensuite bed at home and sleep on it in my thoughts.

I need a girlfriend in Nairobi, atleast I would have had a warmer bed and a breathing blanket!