QUESTIONS?

First of all I have a confession of visiting numerous ladies washrooms thanks to selfies, its alarming on how I can detect which fancy restaurant/ hotel washroom is legit from the other slay queen and maybe have an idea on the décor of what to not put in my bathroom in future …now that i have your attention…
Life, like business runs on questions, not answers. And the most scary question according to me and gets me jittery is  “What different thing are you bringing to the table? “That may just make me signal the movers to take it back even if was bringing the damn table. It generates a vacuum in my head.
A steakhouse of beef towards that question may be the closest description on how I dislike that question, how daft does one craft such a question? About tables? I bet the hospitality industry feel like an abuse of their vocab being up-hazardly misused as much as it is a figure of speech. It is not the best thought, it’s a question and of course it needs an answer. Logically speaking it is assumed that there is no questions without answers and no comment is usually considered “invalid, null and void”- drops a peculiar Kenyan statement abuse right there.
Recently I was in a certain section of Nairobi and well as I was having a stroll since that is my new found therapy, no ear phones just me, my shoes and the dust is when I was made to discover that the shape of my head is a work of art, it is said to have never changed it is distinct and clearly no one who knows me can miss it. So I hear honking and I fight the urge to look back I am not driving so I stick to my stand not to flinch I continue with my walk enjoying the concrete scenery with no out of this world architecture… I am in a place where greenery is a myth and different shades of dust are in abundance. The honking goes on twice more and I now suspect the vehicle has a faulty horn. Then a second later the said vehicle dashes cuts me across on the dusty side walk I make a halt as the vehicle does so too. It’s a Toyota hiace shuttle, its empty I quickly notice I have nothing to be afraid of, never have I ever thought of myself as a person who attracts harm that is why the valley of the shadow has never been a fear path for me so I proceed, all kinds of thoughts streaming in.

I think maybe this is the day a call for ransom to my friends & family is made… *quick deviation* I always envision every bad thing happening to me like a bad  game show and to date I don’t know why it has always matched up the OMO pick a box colors blue red and white..(.striking perhaps?) Whereby a host puts me on the spot at the stand with a buzzer button on my left hand, with my problem and where but my life lines are engineered to always disappoint me with wrong answers in turn never solving the unpleasant situation.
So as I get back the footing on the dusty side walk and about to pass by the rude driver who thinks I haven’t bit enough dust by now having already covered a few hundred meters. He calls me by my name and since I have been called by different names all my life and I usually know how to distinguish where I met the person.
This was not going to be easy because I this was a very unfamiliar face.
He tells me to hop in the van, he is huge and in this case I tell myself that this guy can effortlessly over power me if this is a kidnapping but can never out run me. So I decline partly because I was enjoying my dusty foot soldier walk and also I don’t get into strangers cars especially if they are not unexceptionally  really good looking like they are from international magazine pictures, touched up and all. No offense, but don’t you think you might trust a really good looking male or female depending on the context as compare to an average Joe?

And let’s remember nobody want to be told they look average even if they are.
So he tell me his name and that we went to primary school together but he transferred at the junior classes. I have never questioned my memory but as I try mentally to erase the bass from his voice shave his beard, form a baby face visual of him I still can’t come up with something worth an iPhone X facial recognition mechanisms capability.
I give in and hop in the vehicle, and put on a brave face masked with a smile. And so our small talk of questions begin.
Translated: for purpose of language barrier and readers who don’t get sheng.
“You haven’t changed man! It’s like a blown up version of yourself only darker and taller” he says
“How is Mr. Kanye?” I am now shocked
Who is this guy? And I humbly reply in my head “I don’t know, probably Kim K has the answer”
So I reply ” I don’t get the question”
The teacher who used to be terror by sight and loved his tobacco.
Oh Mr. Kanyi?! I can’t remember the last time I saw him. You transferred early right? Lucky you, you never had to be in his math class.
He stares at me in shock driving at 20kph.

“He taught you math?

I failed at math I bet I would have suffered, his caning looked painful.” He answered his question.
I survived I am a living proof.
So do you stay around? He asks I as I mentally roll my eyes (what’s with Kenyans)
No just visiting… yourself?
I come from around just from the garage. I want to drop this car to the driver and head home help my daughter with her homework.
“All in a day’s work right?” I remark.
Yeah pretty much, she gives me joy with the crazy days and phone calls from the other driver is just stress but that is just business.
Atleast you are the responsible one and don’t have to give the boss bad news…(The problem of being used to bosses)
Unfortunately the boss receives it one way or the other not from me though. He stresses
Machel by the way, Samora Machel standard 3P3 Mrs. Muigai’s class…
Me grins, I had finally met someone who has a good memory.
I am very impressed it is unbelievable.
He names a couple of people he was either friends with or who were popular and “losers”.
This was the scariest experience I ever had this year.
What brings you around? Work? Visit? Scanning around for land?
None of the above… just lost myself trying to find myself -I chuckle
He still has a serious face, “well, good luck with that”
Kesho, another day right?
No, I am very religious the car doesn’t work on Sunday, I am contented with a good 6days a week…he answers
You must have a good boss then.
Yeah you are looking at him -he modestly answers my ignorant self
How slow could I have been not to notice his lack of pressure while making small talk instead of rushing to make a living. To recover lost time at the garage.
He tells me about how he always wanted to be a matatu driver but had to answer pilot in class just because everyone was ambitious than him.
I am quick to congratulate him since he is living his dream unlike us astronauts who only know NASA as a political bloc. I am even afraid of telling him what I do for a living.
He has a wonderful wife a daughter and a matatu. He has a picture in his wallet.
So where did you transfer to after class 3? I am now attentive
I went school in Muhoroni after my father got a job at a sugar company, lived there most of my life. Until when I realized I needed to work towards my goal because academics was not my thing and as you can see by my physical stature, no sport favoured me.

How come you have never gained weight? He asks

There are times you watch your weight and at times your weight watches you. Life’s ups and downs I wish you met me a few years back- I answer

I remember that statement I wrote it down in my phone on my phone I knew it would come in handy. There are plenty more questions would you mind getting the answers later? I know I would.

The roots of My blackthoughts- words in no particular order

The most devastating and completely stupid thing i ever did in my life was giving up. I gave up on tonnes of things that were never to be but should have survived the thin line between  courage and timid. Being a coward makes you live longer they say, what’s really about that?

To the man who slurps my pumpkin soup

I would have asked the void between us to ask my shoes but then again they are not worth asking they are a worn out pair of bootleg local brand that are valueless but served for value. The deformation and uglification sector have rendered them safe, award worthy for the best of worst footwear.
You don’t know my name, just like Alicia Keys and I totally understand why? Who would? A struggling man who only dreams can only be advised to keep  dreaming. So I stopped dreaming got over ambitious and said Hi, but why? Crushing my dreams was never part of the plan in life. Playing safe is what I always believed until that day a roaring V8 engine dropped me off at  the jobless corner where most of us dreamers brought our dreams to the table from our bed to the daylight to discuss matters politics and other people’s wealth, corruption or just coming across lots of money and ever changing plans on how to spend the coveted treasure every week happened. I was the talk of the corner of the “hustlers squad” as a fabricated name for the ones who work for enough a.k.a hand to mouth.
The engine roar of your car made your way out of there like it never should have been there in the first place. And engine growl so strong it commands its presence. A vehicle so strong smaller cars only dream of growing up to be like it.  The scene was almost as similar to zali la mentali a music video from Tanzania.
It must have been sad considering that we could never sit at the same table to discuss how she cooks lunch for me but asks you to bring take out home for dinner. She is not a bad person. She always wants to cook healthy but you want food from your favorite restaurant. I too would be in a dilemma of some sort if I were her.  You are the the man, I am the pauper who is just dreaming. I commend you for transforming lives you have no idea off. Humanity needs more people like you but this letter to you is neither a thank you note nor an abusive mockery. I have eaten left over take out at your place same way you drunk pumpkin soup made from courtesy of yours truly’s farm produce. Your shoes are kept clean by her same way I struggle to pay for my new shirt from “dreamers” market stall. All I can say is that its been real. Upmarket you come from I hail from no market I am not dumb I went through school not to school. I am not talented, or rather haven’t tapped my talent. As you just strum away the guitar strings I believe she loves that as I play hustlers’ music on the ghetto radio about making it some day. Two different people just too different kinds of problems. But why us? How full of fool can we be? May be I should jot one down to ask her because you don’t know how to handle such situations I heard “on to the next” is your favorite phrase.
                     Yours
                         Con-cerned

It doesn’t make You less a man

Disclaimer:
Follow instructions carefully
Read to completion
No man should take this “advice” too seriously.
Beyonce apparently said “Girls run the world” it wasn’t taken well by the man upstairs.
There is no gender parity on this post feel free to read and share
This post PG 18. Any person below the specified age. How did you find this?

Before I wrote this post today, being a Sunday and being a christian marking my holiest day of the week. This day marks the start of the week for some while it marks the end of mine.
I tend to be more honest on this day than any other as I prepare to find the sin journal of the week check my record entries and pray that it doesn’t make me less of a christian because the bible states that”… no man is righteous….” As I am not on a fact finding mission I will let you search for that particular verse on your lunch break if not at next Sunday’s service, for you whom are “Christians” out there.
It has come to my attention that being a man can be such an uphill task sometimes. It is not bad to tackle tasks and duties of your gender complex. There is no bias in my opinion about the female gender on this blog post and this is to clarify that I am not an expert at the life advice department I could barely make a solid decision on how to spend my Sunday afternoons after church that is why I chose to switch on my PC and stare at a blank Word 2013 page with it cursor blinking every second awaiting to receive punching of the keyboard till now, that is when you are probably reading this you might just be wondering who in anti-blasphemous name lied to me that I could write, but then again everyone has an opinion about something and  right now  probably  continuing to  read would be my preferred opinion. You are almost done.
Which reminds me, someone asked me on my previous post what goes on in my head writing in 3rd party personality and whom do I talk to when writing but as some rock band once sang  ” I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell”. With great illness of the mind I accept diagnosis of my ailment. Currently suffering my insanity of the 2nd degree. It is ok because it has not yet made me less of a man.
It does not make you less of a man to regard top gear, a football, rugby basketball and any other sport with an exception of handball and men’s netball as your definition of soap opera that you can have rerun marathon after a long day at work. Neither does it make you less of a man to listen to Drake, I have a feeling a couple of you have used his lines on a date. Counting myself guilty on that bit.
So you are a hooligan or loud mouth to each and everyone probably your boss or investor or whatever authority can never tone you down but when your mother speaks or your wife/girlfriend is speaking or speaks to you. The level of composure is automatically switched on at an optimum high you almost contagiously emulate her soprano-ish voice while at low tone.Again I say, that does not make you less of a man. A wise man once said ” A man who values, respects and loves his mother definitely has a lucky wife as well”.
Less of a man? Who is less of a man? I don’t have examples I just believe when you do the despicable you fall under that category. I wont mention the examples because many are struggling to be more of an alpha but they are doing really bad off on that sector with bushman kind off behavior portraying it to be cool in the real sense its total BS orangutan syndrome which is quite backward like engaging your mindset in reverse gear with a lot of full throttle involved.
Winning an argument doesn’t make you less of a man as much you should know you can never always be correct . Victory is always sweet but the taste buds need a transition sometimes. Think of it this way, sugar on your Nyama Choma( barbecue) you figure it out.
It does not make you less of a man if:
You admit you fail sometimes,
You are willing to be a man of quality
You try to listen to people
You cut down on the misogyny
You take responsibility
You don’t know the first rule of fight club
You don’t have a sport you love watching not even ladies netball (we shall pray for you)
You don’t own anything fancy, chance is that Chris Brown is talking about you on his loyal song (don’t dance to it next time)
Feel free to continue with the list on your free time that is how I was taught and I kept wondering why my teacher kept instructing us to do stuff on my free time.