South C and Kasarani.

On Friday for lack of something better to watch,i found myself watching #Tujuane, a reality dating show in which the hosts scouts the streets of Nairobi looking to match make various single people encountered on the street.Well, were treated to some drama by the South C diva who thought the guy from Kasarani was “pathetic”.Her attitude and diva-ness stood out the entire time,the cool guy was silently watching her am sure wishing that the cameras were not rolling.At the end of the show,the lady left after paying the bill,totally ignoring the guys visa card as he attempted to take care of the bill.That chic wherever she is, is sorry already for the way she acted tweets,memes and trolls are all over.She will never hear the end of that story.She will be single for a loooong time.That should teach you divas a lesson or two on etiquette and courtesy,plus you never know where and with who you just might end up with.
I wrote the story below months ago and just let it sit on my drafts as i did not have an appropriate introduction,thanks to Tujuane,am now happily posting it.As you read it,think of all the people you have heard who were thrown out of marriages because they could not conceive.Contrast,and notice how some wont appreciate what they have while others would simply kill to have it.
Maria is a scared woman.She has been for years now.Her friends think she should see a shrink,but she wont hear none of it.She hates her mother she has not talked to her for close to 10 years now.She heard of how she is dying,wasting away in a hospital,paying for her misdeeds as it is but that did not touch her.She blames every misfortune she has ever had on her mother.
She was only fourteen,a candidate at a local primary school,ready to do her final exam and go to high school.Her family was poor,they lived in a single room all six of them,her mother and four younger brothers.She had never seen or heard of a father.Her mother did all sorts of odd and menial jobs to ensure they was rent,food and that all five of them were put through school.What Maria didn’t know was that what her mother earned was never enough for everything.She often saw uncle Mulama come to their house once in a while with a bag of shopping,sugar,two packets of maize flour,rice,a bar of soap,a loaf of bread,and sometimes a kilo of matumbo.Maria’s mother would send her and the boys for an errand and when they came back uncle Mulama would have been gone
Uncle Mulama was a tall dark man with a frowny face.Maria used to think that he was about 67 years old.Her mother was 40.He was a very cheerful man,he loved the boys he would play with them when he came to visit Maria’s mother.He was a night guard at the city for a bank.He once brought Maria a new school uniform and a pair of shoes,the girl couldn’t have been happier.He lived two blocks away from the plot where Maria and her family used to stay.
It was a hot afternoon when Maria came home to find her mother lying on the Mattress writhing in pain,her brow wet with perspiration her teeth clenched tightly.Amid gasps,she asked Maria to send the boys to uncle Mulamas and asked her to remain behind.Maria did so,she asked her if she could call the neighbor or the landlady to help them get her to the nearby health center,her mother refused.
When the boys went away, Maria’s mother asked her to come help her,she was in so much pain.
“Mami,where does it hurt?can i help you up?”,poor Maria asked despairingly seeing her mother overcome by pain.
“no…arrrgh……water…”she cried.
Maria went to get the water.Her mother now lay on the mattress with her legs astride,her skirt hiked,she was giving birth.Maria almost fainted,she had no knowledge of a pregnancy,It was a breech,the legs were coming out first.She was so shocked she dropped the mug of water on the floor,shattering it to uncountable pieces.
She was pushing,grunting in pain.The little beads of sweat on her forehead were now dripping on her neck,her nose was running,she was biting a towel to stifle her painful moans as she did not want her nosy neighbors to get wind of what was going on.After twenty agonizing minutes,the baby was finally delivered,all this time Maria was watching shaking shocked and scared as hell.She had never seen anything so disgusting. Her mother smothered the baby with a pillow till she was sure it was no longer breathing.She then carefully shoved it in a black polythene paper bag together with the placenta and all the soiled beddings. She handed it to Maria and told her to go put it in the pit latrine.Maria’s heart was beating,her hands were shaking,she had witnessed the most traumatizing ordeal of her life.She was crying as she shoved the paper bag in the latrine.A trail of thoughts and questions bombarded her innocent head.She could tell that the baby was about 6-7 months.It was a girl,the little sister she would never have.
She knew her life had changed,she never wanted to see her mother ever again .



last week on Monday evening millions of Kenyans were glued to their t.vs watching the first ever presidential debate others followed it on was a truly historic moment.Jabs and blows were thrown and even the two last minute additions did not disappoint. It was to say the least, entertaining .This was evident form the tweets that people were sending in,in less than an hour #KEDebate13 and. #debate254 became the most popular hash tag on twitter,i mean after #poperesigns. A few days later,a local station hosted two candidates who are in the race for the Kiambu gubernatorial seat.In the true political style,one candidate hit his opponent right below the belt by openly asking him if he is in the infamous cult Illuminati all through the show that lasted less than twenty minutes he kept making snide remarks at him and you could tell that the other guy who is very new in the political scene was getting hit,at one point they were talking over each other and the host had a hard time trying to control them,reminding them that they were on national t.v.

This two shows got me thinking about the politics we daily live with in our homes,school and most interestingly at our places of work.I though of the estate politics we face all the time,i mean who doesn’t have a queer neighbor who never talks to anyone in the estate,but on day comes home at an ungodly hour wasted and decides to let everyone know who he is?And who doesn’t have that neighbor who is he estates radio?Who is maybe*in my case* a housewife with too much time on her hands, who spends her days doing house work and is done by around two and spends the rest of her day with all the house helps in the estate who are more than happy to trade in stories about their employers?*boy, that was a long sentence*And  who doesn’t have that neighbor with multiple girlfriend*or boyfriends*who come over every Friday and walk the walk of shame every Monday morning?And who doesn’t or hast lived with a neighbor who comes over for supper,never mind un-invited every day of the week and no matter how long you delay serving the supper he stays anyway while entertaining you with his unbelievable jav stories?and who doesn’t have that annoying neighbor with a ridiculously loud music system(like yours truly)and likes listening to loud music?Am sure we all do.

On to work politics.In this field i have been a victim,an oppressed soul a person who was almost devastatingly finished by work politics.Due to unavoidable circumstances,i forced to get a job while i was fresh from high school i got a job as a sales lay(or a hawker)and worked for less than 20 days,which i quit and found another job teaching at a kindergarten.The  pay was lousy but the hours were flexible plus who wouldn’t want a job where you take a nap straight after lunch for two hours?That job made me love kids,they are s adorable.It is also at that job where i first en counted work politics.Teachers are such nice and cool people to work with especially if they like you.BUT, don’t ever invite them to your house!Damn those creatures tear your life apart,they trade stories about your house,your wife(or husband)your kids,your furniture,YOUR EVERYTHING…They sit in groups during break time and lunch time and discuss you,stuff like.’kwani where does his money go?I mean those seats are pretty worn out!” another one will interject saying ‘waa,his wife is so thin,he looks like the sort  who feeds his family kwani what goes on huko?..”he was definatly cheated on kwanza,there is no way in hell those kids are his,they are too light”…and such and  such…My self i got my helping of work politics when they decided i was sleeping with one of the male teachers…i had been through high school and i had gone through the ritualistic mean girls(and boys) tongue wagging,worse rumors about me had been spread by people i thought were my friend.But those rumors hurt the most,i guess its because they were coming from adults,after high school i thought things were gonna be different i thought adults are different well i guess people are just the same whenever you go.Eventually the rumors died after i went through shame as i looked like a husband snatcher,FYI,i hated that guy,i cant even lie and say that we were just friends,we weren’t  Those rumors came as a shock to me.Eventually i stopped working there and went somewhere else where the grass looked much greener,i had made up my mind about the career path i wanted to take,it was NOT teaching.

Years later,i started working where i am today and i assure you hospital politics are far much worse than anywhere i have ever worked.The people here are meaner,with aggressive mediocrity its shocking.Medics are so ignorant and so brutal.Class distinction is vividly clear from what people drive(or get dropped in) to what people wear,never mind they wear uniforms.The hospital is literally run by these kind of politics,and the fact that almost all heads of departments are women does little to help.Gossip and rumor mongering is the order of the day.This stuff was flung at me when i was new,i assure you,i did not lose a wink of my sleep over it,i had survived worse!

Have a political weak wont you? Id ask you to steer off drama but that is so not gonna happen,drama surrounds us!Are you living with it in your workplace?or at home…tell me by leaving me a comment below.

My sound track while writing this was Breaking Benjamin Give me a sign-Awesome song.


There is a scene in the movie  Nairobi Half Life where the naive Mwas
is sent by Oti to Dingo,to ask him for a job.In the true shagzmondo
style,Mwas tells Dingo,”ninatafuta ka life” they all laugh at him and
tell him that they do not sell life,(by the way if you have not
watched  NHL,do not trust  the subtitles,they are totally
gross,sheng is less blunt)Staying on the topic,a couple of years ago,I
was like Mwas,not an aspiring actor who later turns into a thug but a
person with tunnel dreams looking for a ka -life.
After form four,i was ready to take the world by storm.I was so sure
that i would get a job immediately,and save the December and January
pay and  help my sister enroll to form one.Life from there would be
rolling in money living like a pimp.I was not only wrong but i was so

Three days after doing the last k.c.s.e paper,I  was already
looking for a job,I saw an opportunity in a local daily and decide to
pounce on it.A small caption gave details of a  job,I can not even
remember what it said,only thing i remember is how fast my blood  was
rushing when i saw the salary,3500/= per week…i went berzing!

I phoned the company and i was offered an interview the following day.
I went to my brother and asked him for bus fare because i was going
for a very important job interview.He being a little street wise than
me,saw my naivety but did not try to stop me.He gave me the money.I
could not sleep that night i was very excited,my life was about to
change depending on how things were going to go the following day.
Early the following day i went to town,Kijabe street  at the East
African Publishers,first floor.I found three other people waiting.The
interviews were short,i did not wait long i was ushered by a secretary
with  an attitude that just needed wining and dinning.The manager sat
behind a small desk,in a small stuffy office,the office did not have
any other furniture.I wondered where i would have to work from if i
got the job.He asked me a few questions.He told me that if i loved
talking to people that i had the job,it was a sales job,I was happy to
get it,i thought it was a call centre like the one in Outsourced(by
the way if you haven’t watched Outsourced,go sell your t.v and buy

Having earned the crown of noise maker in high school,i knew
talking and getting paid for it would be a cup of tea.
The following day i woke up and  got ready to go work,i had been told
that the first two days would be orientation.i was ready,i am a fast
learner.I found so many people at the office,”its a call centre,so
many people are needed”i thought.
We were ushered in an empty room with no seats and the manager came in
to teach us how to talk to potential clients,i was still expecting
that afterwards we would go in an office with seats,tables,and
telephones.The manager gave us a lengthy talk about pitching
products,after introducing me and two other guys and a chic who had
passed the interview.He then assigned us to our orientators,i was
paired with a chic called Joan,she was among the best sales people in
the office.We were then dismissed.I  thought we were going to the
offices probably housed in another building,We walked all the way to
Sheria House where Joan and another sales chic called Esther left me
there to wait for them.They took thirty minutes.When they came back,we
went to Nyayo House,this time round they allowed me
to tag along.My mind was racing,i was offended,how dare they leave me
out of an office for thirty minutes then ask me to follow them to
another building.I told them to take me to the office and orientate me
from there.They were genuinely shocked.
“What office?”,Joan asked.
“si the one…”,there i was looking so dumb trying to explain
something i did not even have a clue of.
They explained to me that there was no office,Joan opened her big hand
bag and showed me all sorts of kitchen ware.That was the
merchandise,and we were supposed to sell them and get a commission on
each product.The 3500/= salary had to be earned by selling the wares.
My jaw dropped,how now?i thought i had been duped by Andrew,(manager)
He should have told me!Well,i decided not to quit yet,Joan and Esther
assured me that indeed i could make more than the agreed amount,i just
needed to be very determined,serious and aggressive.After two days of
orientation i was ready to make 3500/= a day!
The first days i would be given simple wares to sell,like pen
holders,flash lights,spoons,plates and cups.Flasks and other things
were given to people who would make up to 8000/= in sales in a day.I
would walk in an office and introduce myself,give a quick pitch and
add all the things i could think of in the world to sell my
products.For a whole week i sold nothing,people had no money.I was not
ready to give up.I would go every where.i would enter every single
building in town and beyond,i would walk all the way to Kenyatta
hospital to pitch to nurses during lunch hour..Some days i would go
home empty handed tired,hungry and so disappointed.Other days i would
make six hundred shillings in commission and for a day.Things were
looking up.
This cycle went on for three weeks,till the day i walked into Bruce House, a building
near city hall that houses the Malawian High commissioner and got
arrested by the security guys officer and   almost got handed over
to the city council.
I have never hawked again!