Welcome to the friend zone!

My friend Sheila* just got friend zoned.Yeah I know,do chics get friend zoned?Well they do,I know what your explanation for that is Sheila* is fat and homely.You are wrong,she is a very beautiful chic,if I do say so myself,no homo though.She is not ratchet or lose.She is smart too.She met this guy Joe*,he is in her study group and they were spending a lot of time together,she liked him a lot,found him funny and everything but the guy never made a move on her.She decided to be bold and asked him out,he was so uncomfortable,told her he had always thought of her as a friend,that she would make some guy very happy one day and patted her head awkwardly!She wanted to die!
We went over all the signs she ignored and I am going to tell you all about them so you will know if he ditches you in there.
The friend zone is a state of being where a male inadvertently becomes a ‘platonic friend’ of an attractive female who he was trying to intitate a romantic relationship. Females have been rumored to arrive in the Friend Zone, but reports are unsubstantiated.My list will substantiate them.

1.He calls you dude, mate or bruh.
This is actually funny,guys call each other mate or dude when hanging out,doing their guy stuff.So if he ever calls you dude in a text,or when you are just talking,then dude(lol),you have been served-with the friend zone.

2.He only hangs out with you in public.
If you have never seen this guy outside school,or work or Gallitos (where you and the rest of your study group sometimes eat lunch)then take a cue,he counts you as one of his friends.He might text you a lot you in private,but that is because he likes talking to his friends.If he wanted to know you better,then he would meet you somewhere else where you will be alone,and talk,or do other unfriendly stuff.

3.He talks to you about hot chics and flirts with them.
A pair of endless chocolate legs passes in a tight skirt and he whistles loudly and tells you damn!Then girl,its time to move on,A guy who wants to be with you thinks you are the hottest girl in the world,he might look at others but you will never hear about it,and most definitely, he will never touch.

4.There is no physical contact between you two.
A guy who wants to be with you shows it,his hand will “accidentally” brush on your bust while he reaches out for something,his hand will creep on yours in the movies,his hand will be on your back when crossing the road…He will find chances to touch you.But a with a friend,well that never happens.

5.He buys you beer.
Guys are turned off by a woman who drinks beer,so when out with their girlfriends you will see them buying them girly drinks like Redds or King Fisher and the likes but if a guy buys you Guinness Kubwa,chic,you are one of his boys.

6.Dutch Treat
Traditioanlly,a guy pays the bill,in the restaurant at the bar or wherever,but if he asks you to split it every time,then he does not care much about what you think of him.He is saving his money for when he will have a “real” girlfriend.

7.You feel it in your gut.
If your gut tells you that he is stringing you along,then accept and move on.Intuition is never wrong my darlings.

8.He sets you up on dates.
This is hilarious,if a guy tries to hook you up with his mate Paul while you have been making puppy eyes at him,that is it,mike on the floor move on.

Do not be like Sheila,find yourself a guy who will notice when you wear mascara,because honestly you are to him p***y in a glass case to be broken only incase of an emergency!

Thoughts down below will be appreciated!



7.36 pm I am sitting in the mat,my second one squashed between what seems like a billion children whose mother has decided ni watoto so halipi kiti…tsk….buzz buzz-my phone the hospital line is calling me,It is actually the nurse in charge asking for the fourteenth time nimefika wapi.I do not feel like answering her,she is just bugging me,am only six minutes late and two minutes away.And do I have to remind her that unlike her who leaves in the hospital servant quarters I take two matatus to work and a motorbike too sometimes?*sigh*

7.42 pm I open the office and flicker the lights on,before I put my hand bag down,a queue of disgruntled people has formed outside my office all convinced that their case is more important and is very much of an emergency.I issue them with the outpatient record cards and direct them to the casualty room where they instantly become the nurses’ headache as they all wheel their patients in the wheelchairs and stretchers at once in the barely enough room.She has a hard time arranging them in order of seriousness of the ailments.Meanwhile I settle down.Arrange the books,switch on the computer,check on the daily reports and make sure I have everything I need.See at night am an all rounded person,I take care of patients records; files and cards,I am the cashier, the secretary,the messenger,the receptionist and sometimes an M-pesa agent.

8.30 pm buzz buzz…the nurse needs my help.They is a patient that needs to be admitted but the doctor does not have any continuations inpatient sheets. Arggghh…that means that I have to go print and make copies at the secretary’s office.It takes me close to thirty minutes just switching the computer on,getting around the maze of passwords and finally making copies from the monstrous photocopier!

9.41 pm people still coming and going making payments and whatever.I am checking my Facebook and charging my phone.This place is cold.I head down to the maternity where the doctors common room is for tea.I sit there taking my tea while listening to women grunting in pain in the labor ward.Child birth is no joke people.Think shitting a melon.

10.20 pm buzz buzz…the nurse needs me back at my office.New patients who need cards and two who need to be admitted.One of them is an assault case beaten to soft pulp cannot utter a single word.Admitting a patient is a long ass process.The hospital requires loads of information:a patients entire family tree,religion affiliations,home county,district etc You have not seen a hard day until you have asked someone the name of their county and they tell you Muguga or Banana!I finish admitting them and think I will have a minute of silence but that is too much to ask for.

10.40 pm the nurse is swamped by work.A drunk guy was brought in unconscious the relatives claiming that it is unlike him to get that wasted. Alcohol poisoning.We all think.The doctor checks him out and certifies his death.Gasps and loud screams fill the room as the morgue guy comes in with his stretcher ready to take him away.(He is a very creepy guy by the way,I have never seen a guy who gets this excited while he sees a dead person)

11.15 pm the maternity nurses need me to go admit new-born babies to the new-born unit (NBU)because they were born with a few complications here and there like born prematurely and with very low birth weight(less that 1600 grams) and others that are beyond my comprehension.The NBU is the most sensitive place in the entire maternity ward since new borns are very vulnerable and susceptible to infections.You have to take your shoes off before entering,sanitize your hand before touching the babies and put on a gown on top of your clothes.The babies are so fragile,its humbling.

11.45 pm more patients coming in.A re-admission,meaning delving into the millions of files to get an old file.I get sent on an errand to the general ward(the place I hate the most in the hospital)The smell of medication,antiseptic,patients urine and other unpleasant things takes my breath away every time(and not in a good way at all).Before I can settle,I get sent to take a pint of blood from the laboratory to the general ward.Blood sickens me,literally.

12.05 a.m my head feels heavy.The cold is tearing through my layers of sweaters.The caffeine I had taken earlier is wearing off.Before I decided to lay down for a few minutes a bunch of people show up and I have to issue cards and wait for them to see the doctor to charge them for the services they will receive.Several of them are assault cases that need stitches…GREAT!

1.30 a.m I have been warding the sleep off by watching a series while i wait on the doctor to finish stitching up the guys who were brought in.They finally pay and leave.I decided to lay my head down but the loud wails of an ambulance fixates me on my seat.Another patient brought in from a health center who needs further consolations.More cards and files have to be filled.

2.17 a.m a certain calmness engulfs the hospital.We all decided to lay down and wait for the next round of madness.

3.09 a.m A loud knock on my window jolts me awake.New patients,a child with a crazy fever and convulsions.Another admission.takes about thirty minutes.My body is weak,am yawning on replay!

4.10 a.m The calm returns.I fall asleep.I dream am home in my warm bed.I dream my bank account is overflowing,that I never have to…

6.00 a.m My alarm wakes me cuts my dreams short.I have to tally the cards and file and get ready to go home.

7.30 a.m which way,gym or home?

Musings Of A Gym Newbie

Like every other human being on this planet,who thinks is a grown up,I started this year by setting a few resolutions.Among them was that I would get fit and lose some weight while at it.Inactivity,a new job,some money and poor eating habits had set me at a place where my BMI chart screamed at me that I was overweight.That my friend, is not a very nice place.Clothes get tighter,you get self-conscious,that hatusemi wewe ni mnono sticker starts to get to you,you start getting comments from everyone,by the way what is up with that?You think I do not notice that am heavy nowadays?Who gave people the right to go around poking they noses in people’s business reminding them how big they have gotten and how they are about to burst?So uncool. I have never been a small chic,but I felt I needed to make some changes for me.So I went to the good doctor Google,he told me to change my diet and to incorporate some exercise to see changes.That I did,I got active,walking to walk for seven kilometers daily,and changing my eating habits.I began to see changes.But at some point I felt that my motivation was dwindling, I needed a support system.I decided to enlist the services of a gym.My best friend also decided to join me.We found a local one that has two gyms,one for lifting weights,you know where guys go to huff and puff while lifting seven hundred kilos of weights sweat and feel good about themselves*or so I thought*,and another girly one,where girls go to do aerobics,run or walk on the treadmill,ride the stationary bike or row on the rowing machine.For someone who has never seen the inside of a gym,this stuff was all very intimidating. We were ushered to the aerobics gym,a big room with a heavy red carpet,a stereo a stationary bike,a rowing machine and a treadmill,full mirrors all round the walls with pictures of ripped women in skimpy bathing suits showing off they beeline waistlines toned arms,six packs and round firm butts and motivational quotes and warnings next to their tooth paste smiles,reading”NO PAIN NO GAIN”,”DEDICATION AND HARD WORK” “DO NOT LEAN ON THE MIRROR” “NO BANGING OF WEIGHTS” “COMPLY WITH THE RULES” And such and such.The perimeter surrounding the carpet had fifty thousand pairs of sports shoes of all colors,some dusty meaning the owners had not been working out,dumbbells,light feminine weights.Cool remixes were playing off the stereo,we thought it was not as bad as we thought it would be.We changed and got ready for our first session. It was brutal!We were in for the work out of our lives we did sets of sit ups,lunges,crunches,squats,leg lifts,leg curls, side kicks,stretches and such and such.We were sweating bucketfuls.The instructor is a beast!I think he hates fat people,that and excuses!He told us to expect no mercy from him if we wanted to see results he was never going to go easy on us,we told him we were okay with that,woi we gave him power to torment us!He would not stop till he broke us.We had given ourselves pep talks so we took everything he told us and did it.We left there feeling like we had been beaten by a gang of men.It was tough. We almost did not show up for our second lesion we woke up all sore but we went anyway.A repeat of the first session with more vigor happened and after a week we felt like we were getting better. The second week was child’s play…till the day we were told to go to the downstairs gym for weightlifting…watch out for part two to hear how that went.

Why Being A Grown Up Sucks

Being a grown up sucks.It really does,it comes  with so much baggage that can easily plunge you into depression if not handled in the right manner.When I was younger,I would sit with the grown ups and wish I would grow up faster and join their little club,but now that am here,I wanna go back and be a teen!First of all grown ups are very judgy.They are competitive,aggressive and sometimes mean which they call honesty which is just an excuse they use to insult you.Its kinda hard to make friends with grown ups.They have their own little cliques where they hardly let people in,they will be cordial with you but unless you went to college with them,have been in the same Chama for not less than four years,or you grew up in the same hood,they never really let you in.
What sucks the most about being a grown up is how you worry about everything.Lets face it,we all care about what other people think of us.We therefore seek political and social correctness in our conversations.We nod and smile while talking to our bosses who we obviously hate but shed the pretentiousness when we get home and get all cocky.
I hate being a grown up,I hate the responsibilities that have come with joining this messy club.I hate that I cannot just eat my darn cookies without counting the calories.I hate that the number on the scale makes me add one more mile in my morning run.I hate that I cannot just call out they lady from the other cubicle and tell her to get off her high horse and out of the “Saved” group and deal with her crumbling marriage,but I can’t,because that is not grown up behavior.I hate that I know where money comes from,I hate bills.Being a kid is a lot easier,because some one else takes care of that.
Being a grown up has made me realize that not all dreams come true,that true friends are really hard to come by,that life is shorter than YOLO,that everything comes at a price,that love is not a movie,no one has time to run after your ass in the rain holding a boombox over their head chanting your favorite love song,that being number one is sometimes overrated,and that nothing lasts forever.
I miss my naivety and my innocence.I miss how much time I had for everything,now,even the smallest chores have to be squeezed in somewhere.I wish I could go back and apologize to my naps for being a jerk to them in nursery school!I would give anything to have one everyday!
I know I speak for a lot of people when I say that being a grown up is the most overrated expectation kids have.
What sucks the most for you?

My Kind Of Love

Today is exactly ten  years since this life changing event took place in our lives.It was a cold Sunday afternoon we were waiting for lunch , playing volleyball outside our gate,my brothers and I.She called me and  asked me to call a neighbour friend of hers,she was unwell.I was shocked,she was fine all morning,she had skipped church though which was unlike her.She was taken to a hospital about five miles from home.She asked my big brother to finish preparing lunch.Our moods changes from happy and playful to somber. He made lunch but nobody touched it.That night we could not sleep,we were worried sick.The neighbor who had taken her to the hospital came and told us that she had been admitted but she would discharged in a day or two.My brother who was in form three at the time wanted to skip school the following day and go see her but he was informed that mum did not want to be seen as she would be home soon.

Two days later she came home.My brothers were in their houses which were outside the main house,she asked me to call them.A baby wrapped in a blue baby blanket was on the bed,it looked so tiny,viciously sucking on its thumb.

“Guys,this is our baby.He is called Moses.”,my mother said.

My big brother just laughed,call us dumb but none of us had knowledge of a pregnancy,she had traveled alot those past few months,and had carefully kept it from us.We were genuinely shocked,my brothers left the room leaving me and mum to stare and fuss about him.He was so tiny and all pink.My mum asked me to go to bed as the following day i was going to school.

The weeks that followed saw to it that my mum was plunged into post postpartum depression,or baby blues characterized with sever headaches and migraines,she was having a hard time breastfeeding.The baby would cry all night through,and i would hold him as my mum nursed her migraines.She taught me how to feed him-grip water,how to change his nappy ,what position to lay him on,how to wrap him,bathe him and how to soothe him  to sleep.

He became the latest addition in our family and a great fascination,we were overjoyed to have him,Eventually my mother got better,and when he was three months old my mother had to go back to work.During the August holidays,all of us chipped in to take care of him.He was growing fast.He had come to a family where the youngest was  nine at the time,my brother and i were  thirteen and my big brother was seventeen.He was truly loved,and he fought for his identity and place in the family.

He had just learnt how to call “mum” when she was brutally murdered.He would never know her or get to feel her love.He would never relate when other kids at the kindergarten talked about their mothers.He had never known his father.It was as if fate hated him.Even so,he showed a defiance and some kind of determination.He fought his way to stay alive.My maternal instincts kicked in and i tried to take on the gap my mother had left.It was hard.Those  shoes were a little too big for a fifteen year old,who mind you was in school at the time.I was determined to make him feel loved and even if i could not be what my mother had been to him,i was going to do  all i could.

He was a very withdrawn child,he hardly played with other children..I love him fiercely,like he is mine,which by the way if you ask him he will tell you his name is Ian Njoki.
I have watched him grow,I saw him fight the teething battle, take his first steps,took him to school where he wailed and clung to my dress scared, start primary school,I tried but failed to teach him how to ride a bike but he rides it anyway.I tried but failed while trying to tie his first tie,i cannot be all sorts of things to him but i know i am doing my best for him.It has not been easy raising him,i know the worst is yet to come when he hits teenage-hood and changes,but I know he will turn out just fine.I know he will be a nice gentleman.I have no room for anything less.
That, people,is my kind of love.Very fierce,genuine, kind,patient through his every day steps and one that will never fail.

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…woi..help…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 radio.it 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.