GRACE TO GRASS

Bottomline: Gambling was a rich man’s play till the entry of online gambling which is open to all as opposed to the traditional casino gambling which was a preserve of the rich.Sports betting has proven overtime to be a poor man’s pain and a rich man’s profit

On my way home after a busy day running necessary errands in the city, I rarely go to the city unless when it is very necessary. As I strolled home after alighting at the bus stop, down here we call it a stage. An aroma of roasted maize provoked my appetite forcing me to make an impromptu stop over at one of the many roast-maize stands in the neighborhood.

It had been a while since my teeth were put to test on their sharpness on matters grinding in a chewing exercise, I don’t remember the last time I chewed maize or sugarcane.So I joined the already long human that was building up waiting for their maize of choice to be charcoal customized to their specific heat temperatures.

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The human traffic at the stand mostly comprised of middle aged women and men in their sunset years, this was not a sponsor meet up point by the way. I later learnt from Tosh (at least that’s how they were calling him) roasted maize had numerous health benefits not limited preserving healthy skin,lowering blood sugar and cholesterol levels, during pregnancy, energy enhancer, miracle for those who are underweight and reducing the risk of anemia.

Now I understood the customers demographics, many were there thanks to medical recommendations from their personal doctors to mitigate or avert a potential medical condition.

Tosh was too polished and well informed I could tell from the way he handled his clientele so I thought unemployment forced him to heat condition monocotyledons uniformly for a living. In this country thanks to the ever rising unemployment levels finding a university graduate doing those odd menial graduate ‘trainee’ jobs isn’t news. Last time a first class honors holder in bachelor’s degree in economics and statistics Ruth Jemutai was doing menial jobs back at her village in Baringo only for her plight to be highlighted by the media.

We all know of that graduate friend or relative somewhere who is selling insurance,brokering sand,vending water, teaching at a local high school as an untrained teacher, extorting matatus and touting with a Bachelors of Science degree in Computer Science and Statistics or those difficult courses we pursue at university level where getting supplementaries is normal yet they managed a clean second class honors upper division.

A few metres from his stand there was a group of motorbike riders busy analyzing the Midweek jackpot in their bid to be the country’s next millionaire. They were arguing amongst themselves each trying to come up with a list of 13 possible outcomes that are likely to propel them out of poverty.

“They do this every Monday and Tuesday for the midweek jackpot and from Thursday to Saturday mid morning when they analyze the mega jackpot. No one ever wins only two of them have managed to get bonuses which they blew away on women and alcohol.” You know how these ‘nduthi’ people (Motorbike riders) have a high affinity to skirts and alcohol as a leisure activity. Even when they win huge amounts of money their lives remain the same, only disappearing for a few days after they have won the cash before coming back with stories of how they don’t know where money they won disappeared to.

Most of them are employed by businessmen who hire out motorbikes expecting Ksh 500 everyday which is peanuts considering the amounts they make thanks to the pervasiveness of the motor bikes in the transport industry. Some make close to Ksh 3,000 a  day but live in abject poverty thanks to gambling. Imagine someone taking part in all those quick money making platforms from Lotto, Tatua, Sportpesa, Betin to Betpawa.

Listen to me young man I too had gambling problems that made me lose everything I had in life from family to investments. During my daily interactions with customers many of whom have continuously questioned why I appear to be well informed yet am roasting maize on the roadside. I never like talking about the circumstances that catapulted me to my present situation.

What started as a simple way to make cash having been introduced by a friend to sports betting I started out placing bets with small amounts. My first bets were coming through as I rarely lost, then the devil started talking as I listened carefully to his marching orders. Before I knew it I was placing bets with more than Ksh 100,000 a day. At first the returns continued to trickle in as the money doubled after just 90 minutes of ‘patience’.

It was a good investment, my wife questioned where the money was coming from being the christian she was I couldn’t mention anything close to gambling. I told her it was from some business deals I did sometime back. As lame as the answer was she let it go without follow up questions on the nature of the business though her face had many question marks.

Things took a turn when I started to lose bets I thought were ‘sure’ bets back to back ‘kweli mpira hudunda’ football has unpredictable outcomes. The more I lost the more the urge to increase my stakes boiled inside me. Driven by emotions and not reason I continued to place more bets to recover what I lost. I kept on losing back to back until I started gambling with our entire life savings, when the savings were depleted I jumped ship to school funds. We had a private school in Pipeline estate,Nairobi which was doing well it was valued to close to Ksh 4 million.

My wife started noticing behavioral changes, I became angry over nonsensical issues spending more time in bars as I followed matches closely waiting for my investments to mature, some came through most didn’t. Before I could realise I had started taking alcohol to see me through the midnight and 2 am South American soccer fixtures. Little did I realise I was drifting away from my family completely becoming a stranger.

My wife at one point confronted me about my spending when she realized our savings account was drained,cash from the school account had been withdrawn and some electronics were missing from the house. This confrontation was heated as we verbally exchanged abuses, since I wasn’t winning this shouting competition I hit her to shut her up of which she did only for her to wake up the following day packed her bags as she took off with the children.

I had no time to go after her, there are many women outside here who are looking for men to take up their surnames, so I consoled myself. Furthermore there were more pressing financial issues that need to be sorted out through additional investments and proper analysis of upcoming games, this time there will be no room for mistakes.

Her exit from my life was the final nail in my coffin, the school was bankrupt as the bank towed two Nissan Matatus which were school vans as parents pulled out their children from my school considering the deteriorating academic levels. I could not pay the teachers thus they left in droves, the school was officially under receivership so it had to close down. An investment built over years through shear sweat,pain and struggle had gone down the drain in no time.

This addiction made me to sell all my electronics including my phone at a through away price as I orchestrated a major comeback which never materialized. Everything was lost I moved from a two bedroom house in Tassia estate, Embakasi to a single room in Pipeline which I struggled with rent. My life had taken an unexpected turn, I even started gambling in those Chinese coin operated gambling machines since I couldn’t afford online sports betting.

With no income generating activity, no money to gamble I turned to friends and relatives for financial bail outs to bankroll my already scaled down gambling activities with a promise of paying up soon, a promise I never honored thus I was shunned away. Trying to contact my wife proved futile,like a bird she had flown away she never wanted anything to do with me hiding my children away.

I turned to menial jobs to make ends meet, this was my turning point thats why am here selling roasted maize. Never again will I turn to gambling as a way of getting quick money, you too should keep away from gambling activities there is no shortcut to riches.

Gambling companies only show you the glamorous side of the story they want you to buy whereby a few people have won ‘small’ amounts of cash running in millions not the other ugly side of the story where millions have lost billions struggling to finance this addiction. Have you seen any support centre for people with gambling addiction in this country? But we have mental institutions everywhere to deal with mental illnesses !!!

Our short cut mentality to riches provides fertile breeding ground for the gambling industry to thrive in this country with new gambling companies sprouting everyday. Media adverts today have 90% gambling content with gambling companies competing to outshine each other suffocating radio stations, television networks, websites, blogs, magazines and newspapers with their ‘Overnight Millionaires tales’ and other short stories.

Out of 10 billboards in this country seven are advertising gambling activities, two are marketing alcoholic drinks and that remaining one is for the remaining sectors of our economy. How do you expect hardworking youths yet their continuous exposure to gambling messages has zombified them already?

Like religion gambling offers hope, in a society where youths don’t fit anywhere politically,socially and economically they turn to gambling which offers hope for upward economic and social mobility when you win the jackpot, maybe you will gain political superiority if you wish to get into politics. In this country one can’t be elected to any political office with empty pockets.

Almost forgot to mention I told him to “keep change’ (balance) to promote his hustle as I walked home grinding the maize pondering how devastating gambling can turn one’s life inside out…….

COMMUNITY HUSBANDS

Bottomline: His ‘riff raff’ extended family that continuously micromanages your marriage from what is being cooked in the kitchen to what is being served in the bedroom.

Marriage if very complicated in the Traditional African set up when you apply modern day mannerisms. The more you try shifting to modernity the more things remain the same hence you end up being frustrated bitterly walking away with a train of kids on your back thanks to your community husband and his ‘riff raff’ extended family that continuously micromanages your marriage from what is being cooked in the kitchen to what is being served in the bedroom.

The last time this term made international headlines was when Citizen TV news anchor Lilian Muli went berserk throwing tantrums at Shabana FC boss Jared Nevaton Ombogi all over social media accusing him of being a community husband thanks to his ‘promiscuity’ or is it having many women in his life before announcing she is single and back in the dating market in a long Instagram post full of ‘Kizungu Mingi na catwalk’, cat-walking English in short.

This clearly shows she hasn’t met the real community husbands of our generation. The day she will encounter a real community husband she will stop her vagrancy running back to Nevaton on her knees begging to be taken back since dealing with her version of a community husband is better than handling the real community husband with the following baggage;

Brother who never leaves; There is this brother who moved in three or four years ago, immediately after college yet he has refused to move out even after your husband secured him a Ksh 30,000 job through a longtime friend two months after his college course.

Insisting that he is still saving as he looks for a three bedroom house whose rent ranges between Ksh 5,000- Ksh 8,000 in the city, in short he is not boarding anytime soon. He never contributes anything towards the household budget. He has never bought salt or refilled the gas.

His habit of putting his feet on the sitting room’s table or your favorite sofa set as he complains how the stew isn’t tasty enough, has a lot of salt, your chapatis aren’t round enough as her mother’s and the tea has more water than milk ; such ‘compliments’  coming from a person who doesn’t have a girlfriend.

Knocking on your door in the wee morning hours back from his Friday drinking spree shouting your name continuously blabbering “Anne,Anne open my brothers house.”  She keeps on reminding you that everything in that house belongs to his brother forgetting that you hustled together with that brother of his from a single room in Kangemi to your current four bedroom house in Lavington.

Every-time you have a minor disagreement over nonsensical issues like why he left his socks on the dining table he reminds you of how many cows ‘they’ allegedly herded to your parents house to secure your housewife services in the name of bride price. Furthermore this mongrel expects you to do his laundry, ‘change’ his diapers, wash his hands before and after meals as if he married you, NKT.

Slay Sister; Her campus slay queen sister visits every weekend without fail as she comes to collect shopping and pocket money. She signs in your house every Wednesday evening as soon as her weekly lectures are over only to sign out on Monday morning as you both leave for work, she is dropped off at the college main entrance.

She can’t wash dishes, clear the table after every meal, clean the house, assist you in preparing meals or even do her brother’s laundry yet there is a washing machine. Every time you ask for her help in performing general household duties she will give you that gazing top down look asking you “Were we married together” clearly communicating to you she was no part of your wedding give away.

Lying on the sofa-set all day as you are placed under Telenovela arrest walking around with the TV remote even visiting the washroom with it. She hides the remote whenever she goes to sleep ensuring you only watch what she wants.The only time you are friends is when your husband, her brother gives you money to visit the salon for hairstyle change,manicure and pedicure services.

The only way to get rid of her is asking Satan ‘Saitan’ to send a guy driving a Subaru living somewhere in Lang’ata to confuse her before placing her in the family way (make her pregnant) after which you will put her in your daily prayers so that the guy marries her thus leaving your house for good never to return again.

Battalion of Uncles; who regularly make him the chief guest in all funeral committees,dowry payment mobilization and clan fundraisers. His salary is committed to many clan undertakings putting a lot of strain to your family finances. All their expenditure revolves around his salary turning him to a zombie as they remotely control him thus prioritizing their needs whereas his family welfare comes last.

Your children school fees will always be paid in the last minute after you have made a lot of noise prompting him to pay up so that you shut up. Buying only the ‘necessary’ household shopping in small quantities a situation that occasionally culminates to the running out of matchsticks, sugar, cooking oil and salt before month end. This sort of arrangement is responsible for stagnation of upward financial mobility which has entrenched poverty in the society.

Trooping Aunts; are busy looking for a second wife thanks to your refusal of adding more kids each to be named after them and their husbands, his uncles. Before you were married they used to be bought ‘Kitenges’ and other assorted goodies by your husband every time he visited the countryside. Your entry into his life has complicated matters as they no longer get the assorted city goodies yet you have refused to give life to more than three children due to the current changing economic dynamics which they won’t understand no matter how you try to explain using both diagrams and illustrations.

This is viewed as a strategy (if you are from a different community) to suffocate the community’s numbers ahead of the next general elections hampering their already pregnant chances of clinching the Presidency. They will often lament how your work is just to fatten up eating his resources.

Shameless Cousins; who call daily asking for everything that crosses their minds from salt,sugar flour, dowry payment boost, rent arrears, school fees, money to treat a sick dog or buy nappier grass to feed some cow back at their rural home. They always believe your husband MUST help them all the time failure to which all the blame will be heaped on you for allegedly inciting him against them yet you weren’t there when they were suffering with him.

They will oftenly accuse you of using a combination of witchcraft,black magic, African Chemistry and Voodoo to blindfold their cousin as you have sat on a ‘Chapati’ before feeding it to him (when he refuses to help) thus controlling him like a puppet every time they meet during the annual December family gatherings forgetting you are a very spiritual woman with a fortified Roman Catholic background.

Flotilla of nephews and nieces; who are sent a week to the opening day to blackmail him every now and then by his extended family so that he writes a school fee cheque, gives pocket money and do some serious shopping as they go back to resume their academic sessions.

Failure to financially commit will lead to undertones of how arrogant he is after they sacrificed their resources as a family, clan and community for him to reach where he is today. “If it wasn’t for us right now he wouldn’t have gone to the city where he found that lady he lives (YOU) with who diverts all of his resources to their homestead and her relatives,” they will lament.

Clinging choice; Every man has this woman he was supposed to marry until another woman came in the line of fire ‘spoiling’ the arithmetic forcing the man to abdicate the commitment,retract implicating statements before making a tan(theta) U-turn towards the other woman whom she marries, this woman is you.

She will take advantage of the cosy relationship she enjoys with his family as she was the wife apparent before you brought about confusion. She will be pushed by his aunts,uncles,cousins and mother in law to increase her efforts in taking back what was rightfully hers by snatching him away from you thus she calls daily pretending she is troubled and only he can sort her out if they meet urgently.

Possessive Mother in law; who hates you for stealing her favorite son whom she hasn’t let go and isn’t willing to let go anytime soon thus she will always pick fights for no good reason. Stating how his son has lost a lot of weight thanks to your poor kitchen skills which has lowered his productivity in the bedroom yet it is obvious from his #TBT photos you have over performed to the extent his close friends think you are a magician after cleaning him thoroughly.

Indecisive Father in law; who is never in control of anything thus fence sitting allowing nature to take its course. He never intervenes when you are under siege as long as his wife has said North its North even when in actual sense its South. He only calls his son when he needs money to quench his booze thirst.

Panel of Village elders; burdening him with community projects from drilling boreholes, tree planting, gabion building, title deed processing Et al. Failure to engineer these projects will be seen as disrespect to elders thus he will be cursed before being banished from the community leaving him with no option but toeing the line.

Swarming village-mates; who expect him to pay school fees for every child who joins a national school or proceeds to any institution of higher learning be it a college or university. They assume this is his responsibility as he owes the village after they fund-raised for him when he joined university. Were it not for the ‘Harambee’ fundraiser he would have seen everything university on ViuSasa.

EQUAL OPPORTUNITY EMPLOYER

Bottomline: in this country education used to be the KEY to SUCCESS until sex,corruption & connections became the padlocks unless you part your legs, part with money or a relative plays part you can’t get meaningful employment.

A few hours ago I was from my 42nd interview, three year after clearing campus. By the way I am scheduled to go for one in a few minutes time,furthermore, I have like two other interviews slated for the same day this week which am still deliberating with the voices in my head on whether or not to honour their summons.

My friends believe am in bed with lady luck since at least am given a fighting chance in those interviews unlike them who don’t even get those we regret to inform you messages, usually web generated turning down your application by prospective employers acknowledging their waste of ink, paper, interest and time

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The response is still the same as the previous ones, “we have gone through your papers, your presentation was excellent, we will get back to you in two weeks time.” These are usually the last words I ever hear from the organization.

Do these interview panels really know what they make us go through? Hope they don’t, because if they do then they allow interviewees to go through a rigorous process yet they already have a preferred list of candidates amongst within their ranks, then the hottest furnace in hell has been reserved for them.

Though some relatives will still hold the view that you are a dimwit who couldn’t make it past a job interview even after making it to the shortlist, little do they know that the interview process was a public participation exercise meant to improve the organization’s public relations; interview all select the ‘best’ scatter the rest.

How does an organization advertise for two positions shortlist 1000 people with similar qualifications under the pretense of “we are looking for the best candidate” or is the sitting allowance the motivating factor. With their ‘We are an equal opportunity employer,canvassing will lead to automatic disqualification,’ which is the corporate lie as canvassing leads to automatic employment.

Am not an expert in HR techniques and practices, but I bet through document analysis of the applicants CV’s they can select 10 applicants to square it out for the two vacancies saving the remaining 990 the cost of printing cover letters, Cv’s, Certificate of good conduct, HELB clearance and credit clearance certificate to show you honour your debts as if we live in a country where you can just take a loan without collateral. Acquiring all these documents is an expensive and time consuming undertaking.

Going through the organizations website to memorize its mission, vision, core values, structure, heads of departments, history of the organization and notable milestones is not an easy task considering you have to conceptualize them overnight through serious cramming as you await the interview the following morning.

In this interview I met Josh, who was 33 years masters degree holder who had first class honors at undergraduate level,  yes a first class 33 year old who was still competing with us ; people of second class honors upper division who were noisemakers throughout campus. Who clusters someone who got a first class with the rest !!!!

As we were lined up waiting for ‘slaughter’, I got to ask Josh what he was doing here since that job was not well lucrative compared to his academic qualifications. It was a two year contract with Ksh 25,000 as remuneration before tax is taken away by the government, after removing all deductions HELB (Higher Education Loans Board) included  one goes home with close to Ksh 16,000 which is supposed to run him or her throughout the month that’s Ksh 16,000 divided by 30 brings the daily expenditure Ksh 534 per day.

HELB was supposed to be a token of appreciation for excelling in Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education (KCSE) but now the government through education Cabinet Secretary Amina Mohammed has circumnavigated the ‘agreement’ issuing a ‘shoot to kill order’ to the police against HELB defaulters after branding all graduates potential economic terrorists.

Chemistry wasn’t easy by the way so CS Amina we will pay the loan when we get the money or when we go into politics where it’s mandatory for one to have the HELB clearance certificate. Furthermore, everyone in this country has a debt even the government owes China but we haven’t reported them to Interpol,CIA,FBI,Scotland Yard et al so relax madam.

Back to Josh, he has been in between internships since completing his degree, here I was thinking all first class ninjas were directly sponsored for masters as they are sharpened to join the career academician ranks. Here he was still tarmacking with no hope of being an assistant lecturer.

“I have been an intern for close to two years in this parastatal,so I thought when a vacancy comes up I would be considered. Three weeks ago, a vacancy came up since one of the department’s staff had been redeployed to another state owned enterprise. The HR summoned me to his office to inform me of the new development thus I was to take over her duties as I wait to be confirmed as a permanent and pensionable staff.

My patience had finally paid off, two years wait is no joke my brother, you have to be overly optimistic considering the Simsim remuneration of interns in government establishments.”

“I took up the role of a civil servant on an intern’s stipend performing the duties exemplarily as I knew it was a matter of days before the letter of appointment lands on my desk. However, ‘Bindu Bichenjanga’ things change….”

“What changed,” I asked as he paused

After a moment of silence he resumed, “On a Monday, the week I was to be confirmed I found my desk had a new occupant.”

“Which desk , the intern’s desk,” I asked

“Not the interns desk come on, my new desk the permanent and pensionable staff desk I had been promoted to two weeks ago. All my things had been sent back to the sender, the interns desk by the door where I had been operating from for the past two years.”

There was grave silence in the office as I went in nobody was willing to give me an explanation of what had happened, was I the one next in line what had just happened. I greeted the new staff member with a plastic smile though inside me I was burning with rage.

She was far much younger as I returned to my intern’s post pretending to be fine. Being fine was the last thing I could have been that Monday morning, so I tried to patiently sit out the day but it wasn’t possible without a proper explanation of my ‘demotion’. Had I done anything wrong, I kept asking myself as I reflected the two weeks probation period where I was in an acting capacity.

As I was going through the newspapers doing the daily media monitoring and analysis the state of my mind couldn’t allow me to do anything constructive so I went to the Human Resource office to see the person in-charge to seek clarification of what had just transpired. Unfortunately he wasn’t there so I went back to my intern’s post perform lighter duties as the day tortoises off.

My colleagues were in shock though they couldn’t do anything, it was a matter out of their control. Nobody knew who brought her in so they kept their calm as they sympathized with me encouraging me over lunch break that another chance will just come up, come up from where and after how long I asked myself.

My colleague Martin had other ideas of how they could sabotage Janice,the new staff member so that she quits or seeks lighter duties elsewhere. An idea I was supporting considering how ‘unfair’ she just came in and took my place however, Saito had other ideas as he called for caution with his short statement “when you see a tortoise on a table ask yourself who placed it there.” “Anaweza kuwa sosi ya mdosi tujipate kwa noma hatujawai ona’ she might be the big boss side chic/property who might put us in one hell of a problem we have never encountered, so sabotage was out of the question.

“So what did you do,” I asked

“I left” he answered

“Just like that,” he replied

Yes, In the evening I just picked up what was necessary from my intern’s desk then never reported to work the following morning and have never went back since then.

“What of your recommendation letter, didn’t they call you” I asked

“To hell with the recommendation letter, do you think they might put in some nice about my contribution to the organization, they never called or bothered to ask where I had disappeared to.” he answered

The HR conducting the interview came out, ” Sospeter Shiundu you are next so have your credentials in order.”

As I was arranging my curriculum vitae,academic certificates and other supporting credentials Josh told me he would be leaving for the Yemen next month as a security guard if he won’t get this contract as he was sick and tired of these job interviews.

Asking him what a masters holder who had first class honors at undergraduate level would be doing in war torn Sanaʽa as a security guard. He replied as he wished me all the best in the interview, “in this country education used to be the KEY to SUCCESS until sex,corruption & connections became the padlocks unless you part your legs, part with money or a relative plays part you can’t get meaningful employment.”

TUSSLE PART 1 OF 4

Bottomline: The compensation ran in millions but I haven’t seen even a single cent for a child I carried in my womb for 9 months after which I single handedly raised for the better part of his life as the dad passed away when he was still in lower primary.

Waiting for the lift to reach the ground floor, the lift wasn’t forthcoming. Some of the citizenry were impatient enough to take the staircase in a bid to test their fitness levels.

There was no way I was taking the staircase to the 11th floor let me just wait for the lift. I can’t  soak myself in sweat thanks to the staircase on my way to an officially unofficial appointment,furthermore, am fit enough thanks to the regular morning runs, let the middle aged french fries eating adults get rid of the excess body fats in their bodies through the staircase exercise. I was in no hurry whatsoever compared to most of them who were running errands for their respective organizations.

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The disgruntled members of the public who were seemingly angered by the lift delay left one by one with the usual nothing in this country ever works properly anyway look written all over their faces. Only two of us from the crowd were left staring at the lift on the ground floor.

“Nowadays government buildings don’t have waiting lobbies at the ground floor where we could be seated waiting for the lift, during our days there used to be lobbies at the ground floor in every government building, it seems systemic corruption has ‘eaten’ all that away.” She said.

Which floor are you headed to she asked, “11th floor I replied to see my uncle who is a civil servant attached at the Ministry of Public Service, Youth and Gender Affairs.” softly I replied.

Ooh those are the guys who oversaw the massive looting christened NYS season one and two I hope you are not going there to orchestrate and mastermind season three she jokingly remarked.

I smiled as I told her my uncle had just been brought in from the Ministry of Mining to clear the mess that had soiled the reputation of the once noble entity that offered a lifeline with lifetime technical skills to many youths but was now turned to a cash cow with bureaucrats and bourgeoisies milking it at will thanks to the vulnerability of the integrated financial management system (IFMIS).

She was pretty informed for a lady in her late 60’s armed with the day’s newspaper which she was reading as we were waiting for the lift. Now that she had known what brought me to the building I also ask her the same question,so politely I asked,” Mum what brings you to the city.”

Most women her age only visit the city to seek ‘medical intervention’. Their grandchildren always visit them once or twice a year mostly during the prolonged 3rd term holiday which begins somewhere in October all through to December.

“I am here to see my nephew,he too is a civil servant in the Ministry of Labour, Social Security and Services on the 14th floor.”she remarked. Is it about your retirement benefits or your husband benefits. Her reply is what shocked me most…..

“What’s your name?” she asked

I replied Sospeter,

“Sospeter who…..”

Sospeter Shiundu

She smiled, you are from our side of the rift valley, at this point I knew my second name was the determinant whether she would continue to open up or our brief ‘friendship’ we had built in the last 10 minutes would end prematurely. Though we were from different ethnic groups, I could tell from her Swahili accent ,you all know how this coastal language brings out our various dialects thanks to pronunciations “Matamshi’.

There is this lady my son married; shocked by this description of her ‘daughter in law’ I keenly listened to her reasons for visiting the city which initially didn’t seem that serious to me until that description of her daughter in law.

She met this lady in the city they hurriedly moved in together the way this fast food generation of yours operates nowadays no courtship period. Children began flowing cementing their relationship with my grandchildren thus I began accepting her slowly as I developed a softer spot towards her thanks to my grandchildren.

Initially I never liked the lady but my son stood by her hence I began building some sort of relationship with her over time. Accepting her as part of my family by embracing her as my daughter in law was tough but I swallowed the bitter pill considering she was from a community I had very bad experiences with when I was living in the city.

Intermarriages in this country work sometimes but most times they don’t considering the differences in our diverse cultural backgrounds. I come from the other side of the Rift Valley thus I would have preferred  if my son would have married from our side of the Rift Valley.

However, he married from the other side of the Rift Valley thanks to the current urban upbringing that enables you to meet people from diverse ethnic backgrounds.During our days intermarriages were very rare mostly if it involved a member of a community from the other side of the Rift Valley, we were warned upfront during our upbringing not to bring a potential suitor from the other side of the valley.

If you go against the grain, you are on your own thus being deemed an outcast. To us the Rift Valley was not only a natural geographic trench it was also a warning.

Back to my son, he lost his life in the battle of Kulbiyow on 27th January 2017 may his soul rest in peace. He hadn’t worked for even 10 years, with tearful eyes she pulls out her handkerchief from her handbag as she wipes off tears about to flood her face. The government did well to give us compensation which was part of his benevolence fund set aside in case he lost his life on active duty.This is where the problem began and her true colors came out…

The compensation was to be divided between the wife and the kin’s immediate family in a ratio to be agreed upon by both sides. Since his father also went to join the Lord a long time ago, I was the immediate family member apart from his siblings who could step in to append my signature on the compensation form.

I was so overwhelmed by his death since we were very close to the extent I could not think about compensation. My mind was fully occupied with how I was going to give him a befitting send off and life after his departure being my favorite son.

We agreed to divide the compensation on an 80% -20% arrangement, she was to take the 80% so that she may use it to take care of their children. The compensation ran in millions but I haven’t seen even a single cent for a child I carried in my womb for 9 months after which I raised him alone for the better part of his life as the dad passed away when he was still in lower primary.

She took advantage of the situation my susceptibility circumnavigating the agreement shortchanging me and my children ripping us off the compensation before disappearing in the wind.

Like a bird she flew away changing  phone numbers every time I got her new number. I have no need for the money it was her husbands benefits all I want to have a relationship with my grandchildren she can get married to another person for all I care.

My nephew knows his brother, they are longtime friends since they attended the same high school and university. I came to see him so that he can assist me in tracking down my grandchildren whom I haven’t seen for more than two years. The last time I saw them was during the burial of my son, their father. His son takes after him thus always bringing back memories of our time together.

The lift finally came down we went in,I alighted on the 11th floor we exchanged pleasantries as she warned me against marrying women fro the other side of the rift valley more so if I met them in the city. I bid her goodbye wishing her all the best  she hopes to get her slice of the loaf…

Part two will focus on a widow’s perspective…..

POLITICIAN’S WIFE

Bottomline: I must take an active role in voter mobilization moving around villages hugging women,distributing Lesos, sugar,salt and cooking oil in an attempt to endear him to the female voters who have the decisive vote only for me to become the first causality

Its now two weeks and counting,I haven’t heard from him no text, no call, no anything just like any other common,ordinary citizen I just see him on the television during those live parliamentary sessions if they happen to be aired by the national broadcaster while am in the house. Sometimes I see him neatly dressed during television interviews and am not the one responsible, who dressed him? To worsen the matter am seeing those clothes for the first time in my life. Questions start lingering across my mind where does he freshen up from before donning those adorable designer suits? Who is this woman who has taken over my husband? Where was she before he rose to this prestigious position?

The problem isn’t with her any way since in the absence of water lizards can claim to be crocodiles anyway let’s get back to my husband. I have been covering for him when our children bombard me with those questions that don’t have a proper-definitive answer on the whereabouts of their father. Since I don’t want to tarnish his ‘good’ name to his children I had to be a liar, yes a  serial liar who has to plan lies upfront and execute them with utmost precision to ensure they come out us the sheer truth nothing more. ‘Dad came home late and left early to attend to a matter of national interest;”I would feign as I prepared them for school around 5 am.

I must not only put a good face but also a good word in front of the children,something they will buy easily with little or no question marks.They should not see any sign of my pain,despair and struggle in keeping the family together. The picture of their father being the national hero everybody wants to be associated with at every level from the constituency to the national level has to be maintained at all costs necessary. Any sign of unhappiness from my side will definitely change their perception of the national hero, I don’t want to attract any unnecessary questions especially from them as it would lead to emotional instability which will affect their academic performance,perception and self esteem.

Sharing with friends,neighbors,colleagues or relatives is a no, yes a big NO. I can’t take chances they will make mince meat out of my struggles providing the necessary fodder for rumor mills, gutter press and blogs to attract traffic and make money through shouting headlines accompanied with exaggerated stories. This will expose my fragile union even further in this internet era fake news is rife soon social media investigators in their attempt to make the story juicy with interesting twists and turns they will dig out further splashing our photos everywhere for all to see.

Though the story will have some truth from a distance bulk of the information contained in the alleged ‘dossiers’ will just be hogwash. This will provide the best foundation for political propaganda with a well oiled political machinery thanks to my husband’s political enemies with the help of their handlers,data mining companies and political spin doctors. I may wake up to bad news which was my creation; with photos of my entire family circulating on social media from Whatsapp groups to Telegram channels as bloggers try to outshine each other on who can sell a much more juicier story with damning details and exposes. The internet never forgets by the way….

Having normalized the pain of an absent husband perfecting the art and technique of putting a brave face full of fake smiles as I talk with anyone and everyone who asks me how we are doing at home or how has been. I have to be at my best even on my worst days as I go on with my daily activities since any behavioral change might attract some unwanted attention from members of the fourth estate and their accomplices.

As a political tool on standby to be deployed and employed when necessary in fighting political propaganda during the messy,noisy and chaotic electioneering period that lasts for close to a year. I have to accompany him so that he won’t be called names or despised of how he expects to take care of a constituency with close to 80,000 voters and approximately 200,000 inhabitants yet he can’t take care of his wife.

In politics anyone or anything can be used to undress you thus discrediting you amongst voters. I must take an active role in voter mobilization moving around villages hugging women,distributing Lesos, sugar,salt and cooking oil in an attempt to endear him to the female voters who have the decisive vote only for me to become the first causality. As if this is not enough I form campaign parties dubbed ‘Warembo na Mheshimiwa’ in all villages with an aim of covering more ground to ensure he wins two elections; both the party nomination ticket and the actual election. The party nomination is usually the herculean task though…

Being a trophy wife to be used for public displays during state functions,dinners,church sermons and political rallies. I have to look good at all times, dressed in the latest designer attires top-down,with the latest hairstyle,shades from Dubai,Italian handbag topped up with an irresistible French cologne. Physically I may seem to be well,however, the devil is in the detail; what you may not know is that am emotionally drained. After the function we might not even go home together let alone being driven in the same vehicle. We will be seen together in the next function for the sake of publicity, if I fail to make a grand entrance away from the public eye; tongues will start wagging which is not good in this line of business.

Driven in the latest Toyota V8 with a bodyguard and driver at my disposal, living in a state of the art 10 bedroom maisonette in a leafy suburb,children attending an international school, unlimited vacations topped up with numerous shopping trips many are of the opinion that I should forever keep my silence and enjoy the privilege that comes with the trappings of power as long as it last. What they don’t know is the emotional pain that comes with such a life. They don’t know of the long sleepless nights as I pray that whenever he is may he be safe,may he not bring that disease,yes that DISEASE we all talk about in hush tones that requires daily medication though thanks to the introduction of PrEP I care less. What hell of a life……..

THE DECEMBER TRAP

Bottomline : money starts talking and you listen, it gives you suggestions that you know very well are illogical but since it overpowers your thinking forcing you to make the dumbest decisions ever..

Money has this itching effect, anyone who tells you money never itches him or her is a pretender, the festive season provides the most suitable environment for the itching effect of money to manifest itself.

This remains to be the only month where you have two salaries; your November salary usually hits the account on the 5^th of December latest whereas the December Salary is deposited in the account latest 15^th, those employed are we reading from the same script? Yearly bonuses also happen to come at this time, if you are never loaded in December yet you are employed, the person who bewitched you died without lifting off the spell.

In this month, church attendance is at an all-time low, when people have money they forget about God. Either way they will come back in January, after seeing the light when broke. It is the only month when one leaves the house at AM (After Midnight) as early as 8am and comes back in AM as late as 7am the following day, after night out raving. Actually it’s the only month that nights are longer and days are shorter.

Then the money starts talking and you listen, it gives you suggestions that you know very well are illogical but since it overpowers you thinking forcing you to make the dumbest decisions ever. Money will tell you how Jameson from your usual neighborhood joint which is relatively ‘cheaper’ is of a lower quality, has been ‘added’ water, its counterfeit and its produced somewhere in Kariobangi North. It will go further to advice you how it might give you liver cirrhosis, kidney failure, diabetes, high blood pressure and leukemia yet you have been drinking there for a whole year. Money will therefore direct you to upgrade to another upmarket joint where the price of Jameson is attached to its ‘big’ name that comes with it costing you thrice what you are accustomed to, since you are buying both the ‘name’ and the drink.

After using public transport and route 11 for the whole year, money will advise you on how you need to either buy or hire a car depending on what is available, it will never advice you to use taxi. Most of the time it advices on the latter, car hire. Knowing very well you don’t have a driving license you conspire with crooked members in the System acquire it within two days, call a driver friend for a two day driving crush programme in a nearby football field probably in a public school. Within three days you are overtaking people in roundabouts, playing loud music with all windows open as one arm is in the “Greater Than” position. Those asking why traffic jams have been all over the city, you now got your answers. All these come with hidden costs which you will be made aware of in January.

Most of your friends have gone upcountry to join their folks; money tells you how you should also go upcountry to visit yours. How do you even remain behind when the entire neighborhood is away? Unless you want to invite those unpleasant questions of “Kwani hamnaga Ushago”, you don’t have an upcountry home? . Knowing very well the village perception a Nairobian “JoNarobi” as they are referred or other urban dwellers “JoPango” the ground will be hostile if you don’t arrive in a car with serious supporting shopping from city supermarkets to account for what you have been doing in the city.

All bills will be yours to foot, relatives will come in handy with all kind of financial problems that need your financial intervention such as how your father’s dog invaded their farm and devoured all their maize and groundnuts thus a poor harvest yet the last time I checked with my class four science teacher dogs were carnivores i.e meat eaters;  the chief will also ambush you with a proposal to marry his daughter as elders converge at your homestead daily offer you development advice on how you can play a crucial role in ensuring the village establishes its first power plant, Posho mill which will be the village’s lifeline. Heading upcountry in December is a trap; yes a serious trap and January always proves me right.  

KENYAN LADIES AND THEIR NIGERIAN BOYFRIENDS.

Bottomline: My sister if you happen to be dating a Nigerian businessman who doesn’t work at either Shelter Afrique, Taxify, Nigerian High Commission, United Nations or EcoBank, run baby run..

     

Seated in a dimly lit corner which doubles up as the VIP section of a high end lounge in the western side of the city, a place where only those with membership cards or ‘those’ accompanying ‘those’ with membership cards are allowed entry. I fall under the category of ‘those’ accompanying ‘THOSE’ with the cards thanks to the people I work with. In this section of the lounge you are able to have unlimited view of what is going on around the lounge. Let’s not confuse each other, a lounge combines dining and entertainment with the dining section serving a wide range of delicacies; a club has hawkers who limit dining services to eggs, samosas, smokies and sausages ; whereas a pub has its dining section at the door where meat is being roasted, boiled with soup being titrated under not so hygienic conditions.

Some few minutes to 8pm, a troupe of Nigerian men donning their usual Agbada attires storm in taking strategic sitting positions adjacent to where we were. It was not the first time I came across them infact, we usually had those small time conversations which don’t go beyond ten minutes exchanging only pleasantries since I am not able to comprehend the points they are trying to put across thanks to their heavy tongues, Igbo interference culminating to their pidgin English which from afar sounds like English but it’s not English, it’s just in between here and there.

Knowing very well that Kenyan men are grand architects of robbery without violence, like what the Thika trio pulled on Kenya Commercial Bank, they don’t bother themselves sustaining any meaningful conversation with us since they know we won’t buy in their ‘business’ shenanigans. Furthermore, the difference between them and us when it comes to crooked ways is the similarity. So they shift their focus to our gullible women who buy everything they say as gospel truth, removing no comma, hyphen or apostrophe.

Inset: Agbada attire Photo: Courtesy of Amillionstyles.com

Thanks to the fragrance of their expensive French cologne which I could tell was Annick Goutal Eau D’hadrien, women start trooping to their table one after the other, within a few minutes the ratio of  Ogas to women is 1:3. They automatically shift the point of attraction from the Deejays booth to their table as they talk in capital letters multiplying any other lounge sounds to zero raising it to infinity. Telling stories on how they took part in Biafra war, how they have neutralized Boko Haram in Sambisa forest, how everyone is a Masters holder back in their country and other Yoruba short stories as ladies remain glued to their seats listening keenly. If they would replicate the attention they give our these ninjas elsewhere, 80% of our doctors would be women and not men. Before realizing it, they are already living with them as husband an wife only for the Oga to disappear regularly for mysterious ‘overseas’ business trips within Westlands. They make you see Nigerian as paradise, until you start critically asking yourself, If Nigeria was the paradise they portrayed what brought them here in any case?  

Creating this enigmatic impression among our women aided with their movies and music which have religious viewership amongst our female members of the society portraying them as charming, hardworking, sensitive, patient romantic, presentable, loaded, confident, generous and caring which is the direct opposite of their realistic Kenyan counterparts who have been accused of being stingy, shaggy, cantankerous, lazy, boring, careless and insensitive.

Unlike men who reason with their heads before making judgments, Ladies use their feelings and hearts to make judgments. Alive to this fact, these cliques of Nigerian noveau riche possess all the attributes that will make ladies susceptible by appealing to their feelings thus facilitating their end game, deception. They clearly orchestrate the 3^rd Law of Power, concealing their intentions.

All of them are businessmen; they deal with everything in general and nothing in particular. They have many businesses overseas, their numerous passports act as ‘supporting’ documents to their claims, which in essence might be the criminal trail they left behind from respective countries. They all claim to be related to Aliko Dangote who is either their ‘uncle’ or business associate or a combination of both.

No man in his rightful mind would spend hard earned cash on daily merrymaking; drinking and smoking shisha. Our Oga brothers are international renowned drug peddlers, ivory traders, black market operatives, money launderers and cyber criminals. If you doubt ask uncle Google about Antony Chinedu or Emannuel Peter Lovembe. My sister if you happen to be dating a Nigerian businessman who doesn’t work at either Shelter Afrique, Taxify, Nigerian High Commission, United Nations or EcoBank, run baby run..     

SLAYING SLAY QUEENS; THEIR SIGNS & SYMPTOMS

Bottomline: They consume alcoholic drinks with three names and above like Kerrygold Irish Cream Liqueur, Vermeer Dutch Chocolate Cream Liqueur and Forty Creek Premium Cream Liqueur,forget the two named ones like Johhny Walker,Captain Morgan and Remy Martin.

After tormenting  Nigerian men in particular and West African men in general difficult courtesy of their peculiarity which seems to have been blown eastwards courtesy of media literacy and pervasiveness this new breed of women, averagely educated with urban exposure have made a grand entry in our country with the following characteristics taking centre stage;

Lifestyle; invite one for a date they arrive as a squadron. A squadron has between four to five slay queens each with a specific role. The hottest one playing the Queen since she is the centre of masculine attraction, we also have the Drone who is the lead investigator and researcher per excellence. She is able to tell the financial viability of a man, the next best partying hangout and their next vacation destination.

There is the Undertaker, she is usually the ‘heavily built’ one incharge of general security of the entire squadron always sober, takes care of the rest by ensuring they all reach home after a night out party. Living together in some bedsitter somewhere in a leafy suburb to increase their chances of landing a big catch, paying 35K as rent. They have a Worker who is incharge of ensuring the house is tidy incase a potential catch stops by.

Making grand entrances in church in their high heels and bangles diverting all the pulpit attention to them, usually when the silence of the congregation is shouting probably during the second, gospel reading.

Nairobi diaries is the only program they watch in our local Television stations, they keep wondering why WAGS ( Wives and Girlfriends of Sports athletes) wasn’t listed in Kalasha awards , Huddah Monroe is their role model whereas Akothee is their threat since she promotes ‘financial independence’ amongst their kind.


Starter pack; for one to be admitted to this clique you have to have these as your factory default settings  Shisha pot ;purple lipstick; goldish shades; pink clutch bag, handbags are for those in mothers union; green tattoos  either the breast, neck or arm and Infinix Zero 5 optical zoom for hourly photo sessions. To them wearing a bra is old school since it will hinder the visibility of their cleavages.

Image Courtesy of Photography by Peter K

Force upgrades; The “I don’t do” statement is the most common term that comes out of their mouths anytime they want to object an offer, “by the way I don’t do those Pizza (Pitza to them) in town unless you order me one from Dominos.” I thought Pizza is Pizza whether it’s from Dominos, Debonairs or Deboras. They consume alcoholic drinks with three names and above like Kerrygold Irish Cream Liqueur, Vermeer Dutch Chocolate Cream Liqueur and Forty Creek Premium Cream Liqueur,forget the two named ones like Johhny Walker,Captain Morgan and Remy Martin. Didn’t I mention their taste for foreign goods is out of this world.  

Gold diggers; they treat any man who shows interest in them as a shopping voucher and a vacation offer. You automatically assume all the roles of an ATM once they find your weakness, they will maneuver their way in and out of your bank account effortlessly. They expect VIP treatment everywhere, front row seats at entertainment shows but not in church or lecture halls.

Blonde Moments; If you ever doubt that we are living in an era of smartphones and stupid people you just have to encounter a slay queen. They believe chips and fresh fries are different delicacies yet the difference between the two is the similarity, Addis Ababa is a country neighbouring Ethiopia and Donald Trump is the President of Syria.

Borrowed accent; speaking with their noses so as to influence word pronunciations. This habit has literally made us functionally illiterate as simple French borrowed English words such as croissant undergo linguistic metamorphosis to sound like Mandarin. They begin sentences with “As in” with sound bites like daah popping up in between their conversations. Otherwise is used as a greeting, when did this happen.

Instagram presence; going by ridiculous names like Sashaholic Bootylicious they suffocate Instagram with photos of inconsequential activities such as brushing their in the morning. They believe Instagram is the greatest invention by man after the smartphone. They treat this data consuming social media application as their Whatsapp. Always taking photos twisting their mouths in a certain manner, only known to them as they curve their legs outwards to give them the false belief that they have well-endowed posterior assets. Their Infinix phones only pick their locations such at Burj Khalifa, Skylux Lounge, Fourth parklands avenue and sea cliff resort & spa. They take multiple photos in a single event, in different poses which will be posted on different dates with different location tags to keep their timelines lively.

Photo courtesy of Naija.com

Beauty Enhancers; Rainfall remains their public enemy number one since they never attended any PE (Physical Education) class thus can’t run so as to scamper for safety during those surprise heavy downpours which will definately wash away their make-up. You might not be able to identify any semblance between their past and present photos courtesy of hip pills and bleaching agents thus you might have the ‘she looks familiar’ question when you come across her.

Telephone conversation; “I need a favour” is their De facto pick up line when they begin all their conversations more so when they want to gauge your finances. My brother when you see such a text switch off your mobile date and uninstall Whatsapp. If it’s a phone text don’t reply and incase it’s a call pull off the “am in a noisy place, I can’t here you, let me call you later”, or else you will be forced to solicit money from close friends to send her.

Affinity to WiFi; as a cutting cost measure, they will always want to reduce their spending on data yet they can’t compromise offline. They can’t afford to miss the latest video to be posted by one of their groupies. Furthermore, they have photo backlogs which are yet to be posted online. No wonder the first thing they ask for is the Wi-Fi password when they are on a date instead of things of national importance such as washrooms and menu.

Toxic Feminist Mentality; they believe that any male member of the society who doesn’t have money is lazy, doesn’t deserve their time and should be sent to Mars to find out if the planet is indeed inhabitable. Their fixation with wealth is out of this world, they gauge you before you share a table with them they have to know where you work, how much you earn, where you live and which machine do you use to change mobility from point X to point Y. They have the ability to answer all this questions by just taking a glimpse of your attire, phone and key holder before putting you in your ‘place’.