Note to Self

This is something I felt like I needed to inform those comic authors before my ramblings begin. Whenever I see call outs in the lines of figure II, I immediately assume that the subject is thinking and if the callout is as in figure I, the conclusion which I assume is universal is someone is actually talking. If you therefore use Figure II to indicate that someone is making an actual conversation, I am forced to believe that the person listening to this conversation has supernatural abilities enabling him or her to read peoples’ minds. It could also mean that the subject making this conversation has lost his mind and is thinking out loud (no relation to the tagline above).





Note to self:




Don't rush in to things, or leave something halfway to get to doing something else because you will probably end up doing two shoddy jobs. If you were halfway through your joint and your dad calls, don't pick up the phone, because he will definitely feel something is up, very high up there regardless of how hard you fight you aren't touching the ground. Let the phone ring and call the old guy after a safe landing.

One thing at a time people. If you want to really know your woman, just watch her, don't dart your eyes everywhere, watch your woman. You will notice trends, she loves cats, she can't stand dogs, she loves all things yellow, she loves kids, and she cooks best when she's sad or she's had a bad day, trends. If she's plastic, she won't last a week without you noticing she checks out other men a lot ~hoe, she loves your money - gold digger, and all those irritable little things she does, funny people she ''went to college with'', and so forth and so forth.

I'll be honest hear and tell all the women the truth, you are beautiful creatures. You were Gods masterpiece, beautiful, beautiful creation you are. When you smile at me and I smile back, that’s a sign of approval and believe you me we will smile back a lot especially if you are a beautiful woman, even those not too beautiful because even Mars did not make all of us on Sunday. Now women, walk to town, the closest town to you, and just walk smiling at strangers and see how many smile back, 7/10 is the least acceptable score if you are planning to brag about it. Women are rated with that first smile. You might be prettier than her but she took your man, she smiles better and I know men love happy women.

Now past the smile, you notice the things that her eyes lingers on a little longer, teddy bears, flowers, sundresses, beads, books, babies. The things she talks about, how her best friends name varies a little too often, the people she talks about. You study her movements, how random or routine are they? If men chose to study one woman at a time instead of trying to balance 3 to 4 girls that they try juggling, we will love our women better. She doesn't have to tell you that you are making her sad by your bad habits, coming home drunk smelling like freaking brewery the night she chose to change the shits. As a man, it is your job to make sure that no matter how bad her day was you won't let her go to bed angry. When women say they need security, it's not physical or financial; these are substitutes for their most pressing need, of protecting their dreams. When you were a little boy, or girl, if you had a bad dream you ran to your mum and dad, at least that is how it's supposed to be in an ideal world. A man who can give a woman that kind of protection, a man wherever her path leads her, she will always remember you if you ever took different paths. If she never finds that kind of protection again, she will try to substitute it with financial or physical protection.

At these points of my thoughts, I do try to unravel a little mystery. The basic need, how do we phrase this?.....''The thing you need protected from the most is a threat to your dreams'' I wonder what do you dream about? As a woman, basically if you breathe, you can't honestly say that pain being inflicted on you is part of your dreams......hehehehe, it's the effect of all these 'cuondos sias mias' they would literally die if they ever miss a single frame...... Hehehe, another thought real quick, is there any other kind of dying? - Ooooh, hypothetically...... They have a thing about a damsel in distress been carried into the sunset by a knight in shining armor kind of script. Problem is, living your dreams is not for everyone, and if you are waiting for a prince charming to come and save you from your bad marriage, bad news, not everyone lives their dreams. You can choose to wait for him to swing by when you are half dead in hospital after the thrashing he handed your sorry ass last night.......DAMN!! This is a very imaginative script; the prince charming is a doctor, now I get it. The women who take their thrashing dream that they we'll get married to a wife beater who will one day thrash her sooooo well for her to wink at death, and his prince charming will come in a lab coat, I wish all dreams would come true when I see the pain of those trying to live their dreams whether as gangsters reformed, reformed drug addicts, national heroes for blowing the whistle on corruption in governments, Goldenberg and Angloleasing whistleblowers, anyone seen them lately.

Dreams are called for a reason people, there is real life and there is dream land. The ratio of success in the pursuit of dreams is still very low, so low that the government had to keep it under the wraps. Some guy wants to be a gangster until he's 18 and then drop an album right after coming out of jail, problem is of all 1.62 million people had that dream. The 14.5 pc that tried to live it only a few 50 cents' Akons' managed to live it. That's a very small success rate, and it is therefore ill advised to follow your dreams. I know I wouldn't dare live my dreams, they are full of action, and I hurt myself a lot. Too many near death experiences have occurred in my dreams in the pursuit of fame, as a super hero, I can at least say am bullet proof in that armor, but in the dreams where am saving a damsel in distress, the pain that I endure, the graphics, the background music, with my abs jumping off helicopters, swimming across fighting with sharks --I loved this dream-- .........on second thought, I should really start living my dreams.

Anyway, let’s finish this line of thought, and then clear with its source and finish up with the initial thought.

We all have dreams. Some are sweet flowery, poetic kind, others are violent, others extremely gothic, but dreams. The universe has to balance the dreams and life. If we were allowed to see what is hidden behind the curtain of dreams we would live in a very chaotic world.

The second thought, protection of dreams. There is a quote that is thrown around, ''don't go to bed angry'' if you are a man who doesn't let her woman go to bed angry is the kind of man our women are looking for. These men are however very few, am not even sure if am one of them. After a long day and a fight with your boss, you want your man to just sit there and listen to you whine -this definitely a dream too.

I must confess that women are difficult to study because all this information is seriously crashing. I was sure I had figured out this is what women want thing but DAMN!! Back to studying the trees.

-Insert- I do have other lesser graphical dreams, with nature, waterfalls and naked Puerto Rico women, yes I dream big. I guess they kind off even out because they range on the extremes, pain and pleasure even out.

The initial thought. Watching one woman at a time. If we want to know women I should study one at a time, her ill habits to her beautiful finishing. It's all about watching one woman at a time, and look for the ill habits before her beautiful finishing sweep your ass all the way to the alter blind.

PS: This post is categorized under Figure I. Since am not the kind to question my sanity, I can confidently say that y'all got super powers and can read my mind.

Found God

Firstly, I got to admit that am not much of a prayer, at least not the Church kind of prayer. I don’t know the Lord’s Prayer word for word, but I know the message by heart. Saying the grace before a meal or a quick “Lord bless this food before we take it” is not a problem though.

I was born a Christian, Anglican Church of Kenya member I am. My mum bought that hard covered yellow book with big words and cute pictures called “Bible Stories”, which means even though I don’t read the Bible much nowadays, I do have an idea on what it says, the key message at least. I went to church up until I was around 11 years old, and Sunday school taught me another or two other things about God, before the “double dragon” gave me the choice between the 8:30 viewership and the church, I chose the former. Although I attended the classes one needs to be confirmed, I was a month younger than the required age for one to be confirmed, 11 years, 10 months and a couple of days old is not old enough for a Christian to be confirmed according to the shepherd. This meant no holy communion for yours truly. I was born a Christian, but am a lousy one.

When I was much younger, it didn’t matter much that my relationship with God was flawed, it even seemed macho in a way. Telling someone I haven’t been to church since 1996 felt like I beat God in a chess game or something, like I deserved a trophy for the longest time without attending a church service competition if there is anything like that. But as I grew older, I realized that to be complete, one needs to have a relationship with God. At first it was really difficult considering I hadn’t talked to God in a long time; I had no idea where I should start.

A couple of years ago, I went to a certain Church close to where I live, me and my cousin were feeling a little holy that morning despite been hung over. The praise and worship was wonderful I remember, plus the choir master was extremely hot. It was lively, probably because majority of the congregation were quite young, flexible too and quite conversant with the dance moves of the day, F2 dance moves of the day. I could fit in here. It looked like a bunch of lost sheep trying to look for God just like me, trying to balance the hype, wild, energetic and promiscuous lifestyle they were living and the search for God. A little sad the sight was, but I am not to judge according to the Christian teachings my Sunday school teacher handed down to me when we were tighter.

This was a special Sunday; I don’t know why God wanted me to go to his house on this particular day but he did have his reasons. I believe we all have to follow a script penned down by the big guy, who meant the script dictated that on this particular Sunday, I was supposed to be here, and so was this American preacher. This preacher had a message from God. The message that God decided to relay through this vessel was, “Plant a seed, and wait to sow”. God wants us to sacrifice the little that we had for him to multiply the nothing that we would be left with. 50 dollars was the seed initially, everyone in the house who would like God to look at him favorably was to lift his hand and the closest usher to him will hand them an envelope where he will put his 50 dollar (50 * 80 = 4,000 Ksh., for those not so good at math) seed. It was around month end and around half the congregation was not bothered with that kind of amount. Am not sure if God talked to him in the middle of the sermon, or he realized that not everyone in here has a source of income, the dress code (flashy) had deceived the messenger, or even God himself. Considering how full the parking lot was, I would be deceived too. In the middle of his sermon, he realized some people, me included, couldn’t just come up with 50 dollars on the spot, the seed had to be a little lower, 25 dollar seed y’all. Quite a sizeable number lifted their hands and the ushers rushed to issue the ground unto which the seed was to be planted. Still, some of us couldn’t come up with Ksh. 2,000 on spot either and the seed went down to 20 dollars, then 10 dollars and finally to whatever one could afford.

This was the first Church service I had attended in a long time, except for a few funerals and one or two weddings. God says not to judge according to the Bible. Maybe the big guy had a lapse when writing my script but this was no way to try and bring me back to the Church. A couple of chapters later, the script put me in Church again. The pastor was not feeling well and couldn’t make it to church on that day; his co-pastor slash wife was leading the congregation. This church loved their pastor and co-pastors so much; they referred them as mum and dad. Daddy wasn’t feeling very well and mummy knew the perfect gift to brighten up his day. Kids gather around, let’s surprise daddy with “A PRADO”!!! Don’t judge anybody Serge, the Bible says not to.

Finding God was going to be harder than anticipated, the only way I knew was quickly was turning out to be a dead end. Television had its services too, E-Church they call it and the message was more or less the same, help the pastor spread the word of God. The Bible says don’t judge, so I won’t. I tried a couple of different churches for a while but I wasn’t feeling it, it was like they were pushing me further from God than drawing me closer. It felt like they needed me to leave all else and find God through them rather than pointing me in the right direction for me to find God on my own, have a personal relationship with God as they kept saying. 

I didn’t own a Bible, still don’t (you are not allowed to judge me either) but I had a very convenient phone. I bookmarked the online Bible and every once in a while I would search a random scripture and try to break it down. I did that with the Quran and a few religious scriptures sites www.religionfacts.com, www.religion-online.org, www.brill.nl, and a couple of more sites. At first the messages were conflicting, especially when it came to the practices and rituals, but a closer look brought out one thing was clear in the 50 + religions that we have. They believe of one Supreme Being that dictates their lives, creator of the universe, judge of all humans,

“There is only one God” –Isaiah 43:10, 44:6, John 17:3, 1 Corinthians 8:5-6, Galatians 4:8-9

“Righteous is he who believes in Allah and the last day and the Angels and the Scriptures and the Prophets” Quran 2:177

“Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is unique/alone” in the Torah - Deuteronomy 6:4 (Judaism)

Basically, most religions believe in the one God, the one Supreme Being, the creator and ruler of the universe. We do have a few religions that have multiple gods, but there is one who is superior to other deities. At least 53% of the world population believes in the God of Abraham, one Supreme Being.

At this juncture of my search for God, I partially understood a thing or two about the big guy. He’s there, I knew that much. For one to understand him though, you had to talk to him. This was easier said than done especially because I didn’t have a direct line to him, or at least a location, somewhere we could sit and talk or something along these lines. A friend of mine, staunch Christian, once told me if you want to talk to God, you should talk to him like a friend. My aunt Cate, God rest her soul in peace, told me he’s like a parent, a father to be precise. If ever I needed something, I should just ask him. My understanding was God has his moments. There are times when he needs to act like a parent and us his children, and times when he needs us to be his friends. When we were younger, we were not supposed to question our parents, they were always right regardless of what everyone else told us. As we grew older, we started questioning some of the things that they do, decisions that they make for us, the way they relate with their peers, small details here and there. Why should I do this? Why shouldn’t I do that or go there? Whys’ and what’s’. In our search for self and God, it’s no different. We question why God does this or that, what he expects of us, why does he have to be the all knowing father? What’s the point of free will if he can bend us to his will in a flash? Why did he create us and condemn some of us to hell?

Prayer becomes essential, talk to God, ask him and he will answer, or at least show you how to find these answers. As a parent, he takes care of his own, especially when we are young in the faith. As we grow, he lets us roam, allows us to question life, question his decisions, and rebel against his will because he knows that is the only way to find our place in his house. If we think we can make a better decision than him, he lets us try (I believe this is the purpose of free will), so we can learn he knows better than us. When we pray for something, he weighs your strengths, your needs, and your weaknesses to see if you need his help or you can do it on your own. Sometimes he’ll help, and sometimes he’ll let you sweat it out.

As you grow in your faith, it reaches a point where you become friends with God, the same way we become friends with our earthly fathers after attaining a certain age. We discuss our ideas, throw them around in a conversation, he gives you pointers and let you make the final decision. If you get to this point, you can proudly say you know God. It’s at this point in your relationship with God that you should take it upon yourself to lead others to find him too, walk with them or at least point them in the right direction.

As a father, he understands that not all of his children will toe the line. He might punish you every once in a while, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. He will reward a well behaving child, but that does not mean he loves him more either. He will love you regardless of who you turn out to be because regardless of what you turn out to be, you are still his child, and that is something no one can take away from you. 

Personally, am still in the questioning stage. I question my imperfections, if am created in God’s image, does that mean God makes mistakes, regrets some of the things that he does, makes rash decisions every once in a while, does my imperfections reflect on his imperfection? Like father like son they say around here. I rebel against his will, and do things just to test his limits. I know he understands am growing in my faith, and as a good father, he lets me roam and rebel because he knows that is the only way for me to eventually understand that without him I can’t do much. Run around kid, but eventually, you will have to come back home.

I was born a Christian yes, but being a Christian does not mean knowing God. Neither does being a Muslim, a Jew, a Buddhist or any of the 50 + religions worldwide guarantees that one knows God better than the next guy. The relationship between God and self is a personal one, the same as of an earthly father and his children. Yes we are all one big family, but when we need something outside the norm (basic needs and breathe of life), we go to him alone and not as Christians, Muslims, Jews or whichever branch of Gods family you hang on to. If you go to him alone, he will listen to you as an individual and not as a family.

Let's begin with a prayer next time

''You have to start with a prayer Serge, the Lords' prayer'' I keep repeating to myself as I  run to plug my phone in a charger before i lose this flow. It's a short distance from the rooftop to the living room where the charger is plugged in but it feels like quite a distance, in flow time, it's quite a distance. The flow waits for no man, just like time. I can see and feel the phone vibrating on my phone when that evil son of a b**** bad timing m*********r (am guessing i can cuss here considering if your child can read this and understand it, it means he or she has heard it from you, you bad parents,) low battery devil. In the middle of my flow you're just going to dump me? There is no difference between you.....and he did it again, and again, stupid m****f......there is no difference between you, the evil stepmother, yes, the Cinderella stepmother evil and....and yes, anything and everything you can find, whether it's insults, insults or insults. Throw them at that low battery pop up. Irritating little c***!!


I plug my phone to the charger before that evil low battery pop up totally messes up this entire flow. I sit on the floor, far right corner at Jay Jays' place and before opening my pad, I see this little girl crying on TV. Initially, what caught my attention was her voice, mellow, love seeking, lost voice. I look up at the TV and start watching this little girls' story looking to finding herself, literally trying to figure out whose blood she's got. Everyone keeps telling her, ''This is your mother, this is not your mother and so on, so on, so forth'' (now say it like Tony Soprano, or imagine Tony Soprano saying it) ''this is your mooother' this is not your mother, this is not your faaather'' (see, see, it made you smile right? right? From this point forward, this story although written in English, it has an Italian accent, thus the Latin font.

(Mental note:
........yo' yo' serge'
......ha
....don't forget, Italian font..
......cool, thanks champ)

Yes people, written notes are better than mental notes. 

The story, in an Italian accent, this girl is real sad, she only wants to know who smiles the most watching her grow. From falling off the swings, off bicycles, on tables and chairs (not you intoxicated gang.... Biko likes to call us gang, somebody was complaining about it in his house, yeah this blog is my house, my glass house and it breaks easy so don't throw stones, throw them at Biko's house his glass is harder to break, direction to Biko's house ...BIKOZULU .....). As I was saying, not falling on chair's and tables either because you are watching that girl rather than the said furniture, yes you virgins do that a lot, (there are virgins here rrrriight???) Or under the influence of strongly intoxicating liquids, ''curse of the working class'' they call it, number one believer of the above thrown around saying.

Let me explain this to you, on a personal level and see if we relate. I started playing with fiery drinks sometime back, quite a while too, somewhere about high school between second and third year, and I think I liked these fiery drinks, I think. Polo, had some K.C, and although i knew how hard this shit was from that little incident at grandmas' a while back (the whole operation Kibuku story in Karegi in Uranus: Retracing, scroll down when you are done here and check out that story). I knew this shit was hard and I had sworn before my grandmother and God....hehehe, chekeni tu, you don't want to swear before my grandmother, i have seen what she has done to her goats, the fear in their eyes is evident whenever they hear her voice from a mile away. I'll make a point of telling you about her, best grandmother ever. Where were we? Oh yeah, if you swear not to touch this, "I will never put my hands on that", you are always curious if the taste ever changed since you swore, the same thing with most men. Take the way they like electronics (men I mean) almost the same way they do their froth, once you are shocked the first time round, about five years or there rounds (not exactly 5 years of age, but not less than 5 either) playing with your aunties car battery she used  to use while watching her color TV. Real colour TV, not those great walls y'all had and 
some hawkers sold you a yellow bag and pulled that ''kiini macho'' move....ablah kadablah, whoooaaa, colour TV pap........, nah, nah, (shaking my finger) nah, a real colour TV. She didn't know how attentive we were in that science class when the teacher was explaining how stainless steel conduct electricity, she used to hide the connecting cables, my aunt that is.


This operation was not to be taken lightly, operation ''KUNA NURU GIZANI''. We had being taking notes, where does this wire go, where can we get this and that, and more notes, discuss them, collect the weaponry, and on, you know, break this bitch down you know.


Come Saturday, Operation ''KUNA NURU GIZANI'' launching in 5...4....3...


Hold it right there, why did we choose Saturday as the launch date? Is that what you asked? Okay people, let me answer this young ladys' question real quick and then we'll finish up in a few.

You see,
......''whats' your name miss?''
... . ''Laura''
..... ''You see Laura, my aunt was a church woman, still is, she works for God all the time, it's work and church, church and work all day every day. Saturday ''church this'', Sunday ''visiting so and so after Church'', Monday after work ''something about a committee about something about...... in church''. I do feel for my uncle Mwangi sometimes. You see, my uncle loooooves his Citizen lager, he loves her deep i tell you. I remember this one time when he had to give her up, my aunt had converted him, but believe you me preachers......... (reminds me of those christian union guys back in high school, waking you up at midnight to preach for you, you know how many times i got saved? The trick is, getting saved immediately he shows up, then he'll just pray and leave, you can always say you never really got saved since you were asleep thus you got sleep saved, that don't really count, (scratching my balls))....... Preachers, the froth is very, very convincing, and she fights dirty too.

By the way, you are still reading this in an Italian accent, you know Tony Soprano kind of accent, you know, "aaaahh, forget about it" (fagetaabourit).

So my uncle went to church, my aunt dragged him he claims, (not that i don't believe him and all) but his citizen was not going down without a fight. Everywhere he looked, she was there, eeeevverywhere he turned, citizen was there smiling at him, in posters, promotions and these promotions were becoming more and more frequent, and then, here comes the kicker.......

Ci-ti-zen (banging your feet)
Ci-ti-zen (men upping and leaving)
Ci-ti-zen (men walking to their local)

Y'all remember that sound, sing along if you please. My uncle, now arching his back forward to see the advertisement better, to see if he recognized anyone......, nah, nah not in person, the way you'd be rolling with someone and ''......hehehehe Pato, jicheki.....'', if you come across some fat guy in the streets, or '.....Jr jicheki......'', when you see some skinny black guy like Tergat. It was the same way my uncle watched that citizen ad. He could see Mr. Kipande cracking a joke of how he whipped innocent Sergents ass in that afternoons art class (to this day my story sticks, I had made that collage, pimped it all weekend, working night and day, and then, Sunday night, the devil came calling. Out of nowhere, thin air productions right there, an angel appears and literally crashed the devil so bad to this day, the devil cant touch me

.......(humming)
Can't touch this 
Can't touch this (now doing the dance)
Can't touch this (robotic dance).........

The devil can't touch me. When i realized how grateful i was, i looked around the room looking for something worth the angels fete, the one thing i loved the most in that tiny room i shared with my sister; was that collage. Mr. Kipande aka ''Kigo'' didn't quite buy that but you gotta admit, the story was well thought out, if it were someone else, they would probably have bought it)

Now, when my uncle Mwangi watched that ad, he saw Mr. Kipande and his stale jokes, Mr. Gikonyo pretending to be cool, Mr. Gichungi and his i own that bar attitude, reflections of all his mutual lovers of the froth. Eventually he gave up the fight and his darling citizen welcomed him back like the rich man did his prodigal son, with love.


Now came Saturday, Auntie Eunice has a church thing and his husband has ''some errands'' to run, you know he can't jeopardize his mission by proclaiming his thirst level."

"Anymore questions, mmhh? Laura??" 

Operation ''KUNA NURU GIZANI'':

For the plugs, we decided a hanger would work just fine, can't really remember whose idea it was but the most likely culprit would be Kamande, John Kamande, may The Lord rest his soul in eternal peace. I still don't understand why i have to be the one who makes mistakes so that others can learn. Okay class, listen up:  What not do when trying to power your TV using the car battery without the connecting cables. DO NOT use a hanger, nor any other metal that conducts electricity and place it on both terminals, again I tell you, DO NOT. Your ass will be trembling for at least a half hour regardless if it's 1.00 o'clock in mid January, that's the kind of shock that you'll be served.


The point here, first time you are shocked, it's frightening, you here the voices screaming louder, ''drop, the hanger, drop the hanger'', but you still won't, you hold it for a couple more seconds because for some reason i believe your subconcsience needs a thrill too. Same with our other ills, the first time you tried this or that, you never really knew what you were getting yourself in to, and if the thrill is serene, you keep going back for more shocks, pretending to fix the electronics all the time. Alcohol kinda feels the same, cigarettes too.


Back in High School and Polo got himself some Kenya Cane. I had swore to never touch that filthy evil drink before God and my grandmother, but if I didn't act like I liked it, I might not hang out with the cool crew, bad, bad, mistake. Am not saying that alcohol is bad for you, no, I actually encourage those who do partake it legally or illegally, to drink the most that they can and recruit more followers. However, I know y'all don't take me seriously but here goes, the liver is not fully grown until one is past 21 years of age, it's like trying to mince meat using a sticky machine, tiring. That's how your liver felt when you attacked it at the tender age of 14, crashed so young. Let those teetotallers live a sober 21 years then recruit them, let's grow an army of healthy drunkards. I knew I shouldn't start drinking at that age because my folks say so, but i also needed to meet some cool kids.

Anyway, Polo reminded me why i was curious about this particular drink. I wasn't really on earth after imbibing this liquid bliss, but still i was, you know, in no man's land, somewhere between two worlds, loud vs quite, sometimes slipping towards the loud world but eventually, quiet wins. 

I, like most of you I believe succumbed to the pressure from your peers and joined the let's drown our souls one beer at a time gang -Getting used to using this word-. Without an income source, we were dependent only on pocket money, a couple hundreds, or a grand on a good day to last you a whole one and a half months. Considering that we were allowed to go wherever we wanted every Saturday as long as you were back to school by 5:30 pm, ''outings'' we called them. This coupled with school trips, both official and unofficial, this wallet was not smiling at you, whatever was in it was not enough to finance your new found vice. First lesson, you get drunk faster when you drink alone, but you drink for longer and more alcohol when you drink as a group. This means if you chuck a sok each, or 50 bob each, this culminated into a mini party, our poison was on the low budget area codes. Good class that was (University of Keroro), if you didn't take notes, you can always have mine.


You clear high school, and things get even worse, without pocket money, you have zero, zit, nada, zero source of income. You try out some shoddy jobs like collecting trash and cleaning the estate, for a small fee (big, big, BIGUP to ''Ngara youth'' -Augustine Owino Oyalo,Swagga Maine,Frederic 'obi' Mtale, yours truly Sergent Karegi and the Yakut brothers - way to go men), you try your hand as a holiday classes tutor (had one pupil, I let the kid play computer games and he snitched on me, like he doesn't understand the meaning of a cool teacher), and some computer jobs here and there (by the way, Justo na Paul hawakunilipa kumake ile logo). You do get by, indulge in some cheap keg, some napoleon, Kane extra, among some cheap drinks, but you do get by.

Then opportunity knocks, and when you answer, employment awaits. After all those hours you've read, went to the library and read, they decided to offer you some peanuts, lack of experience they quote, but since you had never handled your own money you gladly accept the offer. Come month end, regardless of how thin your wallet is, you have to prove that you are actually employed, not one of the guy who dress up to go and chill at Jeevanjee gardens for most of the day. The more money you make, the higher the degree of proof needed, beyond reasonable doubt evidence. Your wallet is your lawyer and his job is to convince this jury of peers, erase all doubt that you are actually employed.

And that is the story behind the saying, ''the curse of the working class''.

Anyway, the story of this young gal (hey.....hey, the girl at the top of the page.....yeah, yeah that one.......yeah) all she wants to know is who her real parents are. Even before I lifted my eyes to put a face to that little sad voice, lost with little hope of being found, i could feel her pain. It was sad, i felt bad for that little girl crying herself to sleep, feeling insecure around family, she moved me, she would move you too. And it got me thinking. Our souls are like that little girl, searching for self out there, sometimes within yourself. We do not know who to follow, to trust with our fragile little hearts, who to take in this journey. We are lost within ourselves, like that little girl our souls are searching for their way home too.

Anyway, before all the distractions, the battery low devil, the little girl, mixed flows in my head, today's post was supposed to be about my relationship with God, as our father and we his children. About times he deems okay to just let us be kids and when he decides parents need their own parent time too, how I believe or how I think he runs this world. The idea was to say the lords prayer, and then breakdown my God to y'all. Anyhooo.... It didn't come to pass, at least not today, I hope to do that real soon. Until then, this is dedicated to the few who unintentionally forgot how to pray:

Our Father, who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name;

thy kingdom come;

thy will be done,

in earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive them that trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation;

but deliver us from evil.

[For thine is the kingdom,

the power, and the glory,

for ever and ever.]

Amen.

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah

Halleluuuuuuuuuuuujaaaaaah

That was my heart singing throwing my hands in the air as every part of me joined in and screamed louder. Whatever was happening to me could not be described, not a word in the current oxford dictionary can describe it although astounding, rapturous, or maybe euphoric comes close. It all started with a couple of vodka shots earlier. Alone at the counter, I normally prefer it with some slices of lemon although some days like today, neat works for me. In a good way it burns, and most parts of me go ballistic including the big toe, ooohh vodka, how sweet thy taste. I gotta say, for god so loved the world that he gave us his only begotten son who turned water into wine. How I wish he knew something about the vodka then. I’ll admit that I was a little disappointed when the second coming of JC was postponed for the umpteenth time, all the water I had packed will now go to waste.
 

Looking around me, it seems am not the only one who is feeling the vibe of the clear fluid. There is this chic on the floor clad in a black dress and spotting one of those extra huge handbags commonly referred to as ‘vitz packing zone’. She’s clearly in the zone, her face, her dance moves, the smile, the unmistakable smile which is a resultant of the best man made bliss, am clearly home here. A little sweat dripping, it’s arousing, satisfying. She looks, at me and we’re nsync. We are thinking along the same lines, she licks her lips, throws her hair back and smiles. She walks over to the counter, “double shot of vodka please”. She looks at me flashes a smile and starts walking away. I couldn’t just let my soul mate walk away from me, not today, not after Mary Jane told me that she’s around the corner.

We didn’t have definite plans, but vodka is extremely spontaneous. We want to watch the stars, the new moon, we can’t see it from here, maybe at the beach the outline will be clearer. Vodka stays close by and Mary Jane is a pretty awesome guide as we kick our shoes and play with the water. Roll in the sand naked, her body, so many curves and I want to know them all, I can never have enough of this fine body. Her lips, chocolate they taste. Her breasts rise, her breath is faster; her legs around my back and our bodies are carelessly free. None of us knows why we are feeling this good; it’s too good to be true. Maybe it’s the vodka or it’s us or a fraction of each poured in a glass, shaken together, and served with a slice of lemon to come up with a concoction none of us has ever tasted.

Its morning now, and after last night, I don’t ever wanna go back to the real world. I want to stay here, raw food, and sex in the beach, eat berries in the morning, fish for lunch and vodka for dinner. We’ll wake up with a big fat smile in the morning, smoke weed all day and night, siesta in the afternoons, and we’ll just chill. I want to wake up every day and sing

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah

Halleluuuuuuuuuuuujaaaaaah

I want to grow dreadlocks, and she can play with them when we’re making love. I will learn to fish and she’ll learn to grill on open fire. I’ll write her poetry at the beach and read them to her in bed. We’ll live in a tree house, with a small garden where we’ll grow the herbs that we need. Live like a Sherman, and make babies. Teach them to play mini rugby at the beach, fishing, to live happy without the pressures of money but with pleasures of nature.


Just a minute, gotta press the snooze button and get back to my dream, HOLY FUCK!!! Am dreaming!!

Gotta go, Mary Jane is in session!!

Sunsets

I do pity people living in big cities, always fighting traffic, between polluted air and noisy public transport system, they never seem to notice when the ending of their day comes. The quick summary of the night ahead eludes them, the beauty of the sun going to bed. One of the most beautiful phenomena is that of the day turning in to the night especially if it's going to be a starry night. Watching the sun go down is one of the most amazing sights of Gods’ creation, better if it's placed on an oceans and palm trees background. When it starts going down, it turns to a bright yellow, kind of translucent. The movement of the wind is a little fast at the beginning meaning that on a good night when the clouds are spaced out,  moving from one end to the other as the sun goes down behind them, the images are more agile. You see, with the clouds sliding behind it, the lucent rays create different images, like a slide show in the sky. We all have things that make us tick, what makes us smile when we sleep, dreams, hopes, wishes, each one of us has a different view of a better world. In these slides, everyone sees what makes them feel alive, what you feel the world should look like. Some of us see superheroes, knights in shining armor, lion king, and clown faces. Others see ship wrecks and battle fields, while some see flower fields, mermaids, and angels, anything you want to see. These are normally conceptual images and whatever you see is probably not what I see.
 

As the sun starts to go down, it's shade of yellow starts to fade out from a bright shiny yellow to a darker, healthier shade, almost glowy but with a deep healthy feel, like a dimly lit room kind of glow. The cloud movement doesn't change, but the pace looks like it’s a slower one. You can’t be really be sure if it’s your imagination but the images in the slides are much more relaxing, images are much clearer, deeper color. The art is epic. Waterfalls, wind, or how do you think people learnt to draw the wind? The images are much more relaxing now, absorbing. Absolute silence is required. A few smiles will escape you, coz if you were having a bad day; this is the point where you think that somewhere on the other side, someone else is watching the same sun rise. He or she is hopeful that the day will be as awesome as the sunrise. Like people say, the sunrise is like a preview of the day, and the sunset a quick summary of the night. Slow sunsets turn out to be slow nights while a quick one turns out quite hectic nights, the nights you don't want to ever end. If you are watching the sun dragging itself home, someone is watching the same sun struggling to rise, long day it will be for him.

The sun is now brimstone, crimson red, partly hidden. Deep. It's extremely quiet, almost as quiet as between a couple of minutes before six and a couple of minutes before in the morning people are changing shifts, night turning to day. At some point between these, points, the world is mostly quiet as rulers of the night lay their heads down and the day folks struggle to wake up. Like zombies they drag their weight around either for coffee or whatever switches on their lights, or for a place to lay their heads down. Quietly they partake this ritual and the world feels peaceful, no one is thinking how terrible their day was, too tired to worry, or whether they've finished that presentation for the 10:00 o’clock meeting, still too sleepy to worry. That's how the sun ends a sunset and starts a sunrise. Without a care in the world. This is why the most beautiful part of a sunrise is at the beginning and the ending just does it for the sunset. 

Part of the sun is now hidden; the color is a deeper shade of red. You can see some of the brighter stars popping out and on a good night, you see the moon rising on the eastern end. The sun is struggling to stay afloat, and you're praying that it would win the fight although deep inside you know it's got to go. Like the end of a great first date, you know you have to let her go but if you had your way, you wouldn't let her go. You watch her walk, she turns around after every couple of steps to see if you're still there, she gets to the door, blows you kiss, opens the door, turns back with this amazing smile begging you to come and sweep her away and ride with her to the sunset. That's how the sunset ends, leaves you nostalgic. 

Stars pop up one by one, on a good night; you might have a starry night. The kind that has you making out shapes in the skies, mermaid images, a beautiful lady you think about all the time, nice kind of images. When you are utmost peaceful, it's always your sub conscience at play. When watching the sunrise and the sunset, you are extremely peaceful and the images you see on the slides are what your dreams tend to be, what kind of a person you are. If what you see are ship wrecks, battle fields, you are probably a violent person, because it shows violence makes you smile, it’s what drives you. For peaceful people, it could be anything from birds, to flowers, clowns, whatever makes us smile. On starry nights too, we make out images in the skies of what or who we think about a lot when we are alone. If it's a girl, the stars might spell out her name, or a spitting reflection of her. When you see someone smiling for no reason during a starry night, that’s' a special woman he's staring at up there. 

As I was saying, watching the sunset is beautiful. It reflects what we dream of, hope for, the simple things that make us smile. I kinda believe if you watch the sunset with someone for long enough you can truly say you've ever seen her smile, when you say I love your smile, it's not the one that she will flash and blush a little, it's that effortless expression of feeling when the sun is sliding to bed. I do believe that most movie directors watch sunsets, they get a quick preview of their projects. When you watch a preview, most previews at least, you get the feeling that this is going to be one of the greatest movies ever made, sometimes it is, and sometimes it turns out to be a shitty movie. When the director was watching the preview of his next project, he had the same thing in mind. You can imagine David Cameron’s sunsets, giving rise to amazing movies in the lines of titanic, avatar. Or Stephen Spielberg and Michael Scorsese sunset products. Then you have people who direct movies like scream, and the others that you can't remember their names at the top of your head coz they totally sucked. The imagination these people have to be able to watch the preview of a movie like troy before it was ever made is just overwhelmingly magnificent. Bar named like ''bull balls'' in Nicholas Cages’ new movie drive crazy can only be revealed in the slides of a sunset.

I love sunsets. I might not get enough chances to watch them but when I do, I let them sway my world. Lamu gives me a lot of these chances, ocean background sunsets. I wish I could take the ocean with me when I live this place, but am hoping to watch the sun set in different background and compare. I’ll try the mountains, the lake, behind tall buildings, and basically anything I’ll lay my eyes on.

Something, Something ..... Somewhere

Coconut doing his thing

Am at Jay Jay's place, it's a couple minutes after noon and if I got this kinda flow, Coconut is in the hohouhouuuse, you know we gon hurt some treeees (you gotta hear this in person to really get the picture, with all indications. Its part of an acting class I attended since I was little, they call it watching television. I don't even know why we send kids to school, let them watch television. I am a great lawyer after watching all episodes of Boston legal and a whole lot of The Practice. I received my doctorate after watching all seasons of ER, doctors, House and a whole lot of hospital drama. Am pretty sure after watching super sport for a couple of years, my foot balling skills have greatly improved. Am still working on my golf stroke but am not too bad with the oval ball, I prefer the scrum half title.) Coconut is one cool dude, one of the coolest dudes I know. He loves the ocean more than anything else in the world, maybe only rivaled by his Mary Jane sessions, maybe it’s a tie but that is the only life he knows. He can’t last a month without seeing the ocean; he says it would make him sick. It’s understandable considering how in my short stay in this place, am actually dreading leaving this place; the ocean is beautiful, even when it’s angry it twinkles. Sunsets and sunrises are beautiful with the ocean as a background, even better if you are sailing towards one.

Dj feddy in the house

Back to the main story, at Jay Jays' place with Jay Jay, Coconut, Feddy, I like this kid, yeah I said it. Feddy is a spoilled lil kid. Just playing with ya'll, he's a pretty awesome dude, coolest Dj I’ve ever being friends with, he's definitely up there (he's the only Dj am friends with hihihihihi, but don't tell him that he doesn't know. That doesn’t mean he’s not good, he’s great on the decks but his crowd kinda lets him down. With the music collection he has and the mad skill, all he needs is a crowd that knows good music and he’s good to go). He's like a chic magnet; he just draws them to him. I tried to study him, his walk, the way he talks to them, if he holds their  hands or plays with their hair, or he rolls his eyes different. But naah, this guy was way too simple, he's got to have something that most men don't have, and all chics, most chics love, or like a lot, whichever word they use. Now, whenever you walk with the guy, you notice that almost all the women know the guys name. being a dj means his name is thrown around in a lot of conversations, topped with his other job at the cyber café cum mobile repair shop, he’s bound to be well known. This however doesn’t explain the giggles, or the throwing back the hair thing that these chics do or the effortless way they talk to him. I guess his availability has something to do with it, I mean you’ll call him at 3:00 in the morning and he will pick up and talk to them, the guy is always on the phone with this or that girl.

 .........(the flow kind a split a little, my home boy Kisanya just called, he's nursing a hangover right now. You see, the dude been around since sometime around September last year, and kinda landed on the wrong side of the ocean, unluckily. The place does try coz they have candle lit drinks unwillingly, KPLC don't like them much, some mmmhh……….., honestly nothing is good on the other side of the island except maybe the bartender doesn’t hurt their pockets as much as he does us on the fun side, not that we are complaining, we are on the fun side. So anyway, last night went different, the spontaneity alone got the guy hi already, significant because at that particular moment when Matata insisted that he must board the boat, the spontaneity alone took him a cool 4 steps ahead of everyone. Let me explain the steps thing, okay, I have to because we keep telling people how many steps ahead of them we are and all but we don’t really know the genesis of this saying, it all started in a pub. The first guy was an hour ahead of everyone, a couple drinks ahead too. When his friends showed up, the whole trying to catch up thing was in play but the guy who came in first could walk for quite a distance compared with his buddies. It’s a really long story, anyway where were we, managing excitement. I think if you are overly excited, the first thing you should learn is to manage the tongue, better yet, glue the lips for a couple of minutes. The need to impress and a loose of tongue –not loose in the wrong kinda way- don't go hand in hand. You might say too much, or say all the wrong things, that wouldn't happen if all you did was smile and nod. It gives you time to absorb the excitement, and then calmly relate to whoever is closest to you. My homeboy needs that, no pun intended. If you’re hanging out with a different kind of crowd, you might pull it off, but it’s hot versus cool situation. Hot is a good image, so is cool, but these crowds although they normally don’t crash, they don’t roll either. The hot bloods party loud and hard, the cool kind like chilled out, laid back parties. Hot bloods are terrible with excitement management, believe me I know, I’ve been hot but once you cross to the cool side, it’s a whole different bliss. My boy is a hot blood surrounded by the cool crowd, although a few more hot bloods were in the house, they were past the excitement level. He had his first sailing experience since he came to Lamu, and the excitement was written all over his face. He had quite a night although he retired a little earlier than most of us, but he definitely had the best night of his life, his words) 

PAUSE: Bulls eye just caught my eye; apparently, Ksh. 3,322,942 is what The Right Honorable Prime Minister of the Republic of Kenya Raila Amollo Odinga remitted to the taxman’s kitty. The Vice president flashed his bill of a cool FOUR million but Najib Balala just can’t afford to pay such staggering amounts. Am not sure he fully understands what he meant by screaming he has to steal to pay taxes. Some other guy just uttered about 12 of some of the most incomprehensive words known to man. This learned fella is giving the big words king PLO Lumumba a run for his money with words like, obnoxious, belligerent and cantankerous ......blah blah blah, but that cantankerous word, I could swear he chose it on the spot...even the flow kinda showed..... nananana, nananana, nanana -he looks up, I guess coz he knew he had to make people Google the word and see what he means. The words before and after this new enormous word he was about to create, were ruggedly said, you couldn't really be sure how the word would be spelt out, blurred if it were visual. On reaching his big word, CANTANKEROUS, he had to be clear to everyone, he had to look up and say it at a slower pace, make sure that everyone in the world is curious about the word. Linguists, these guys amaze me, if they decide to study a language, they turn out to be actual dictionaries, I guess this is because people tend to be a little easier with their mother tongue or Swahili, Sheng rather if one was raised in a township which means sheng ya hiyo mtaa. Now, when studying a foreign language, every new word one hears has to be investigated and tested a few times in sentence to test if it feels right. This dude had learnt this secret the same way I and everyone else did, listening to the sounds and throwing the word around in spaces to see if it feels right in one, something like, let's try the bar 

He passed his bar examination

Am going to the bar

We will bar kids younger than...

''Bar, fits in three spaces, creating three different scenarios, legal situation scenario, extremely awesome scenario, and a sad situation scenario. That means it's a good word, twistable too in tenses too 

I gotta pause again, apparently some movie am watching,(someone changed the channel, I think its MM2, nayway) some dude was going to give his virgin daughter to some other dude coz he scored a winning goal in a competition somewhere in the world, almost as stupid as icing your self for some foreign team. For you to understand how stupidly this guy reacts, ''really?”, with like twinkly eyes, blushy, woman kind of thing and the all universal belief, he's either gay, or the worst kind of an actor, actors created on a Monday morning coz even the big guy loves his wine, how else do you think JC learnt the trick? Definitely not his mother coz a mother that the big guy chooses to plant his seed has to be extremely pure. Caesars' standards are high but these are a one to the world kind, the universe the whole entirety. She wouldn't have an idea of how to turn water into wine, this was the big guys’ doing, like the holy herb, at least he left the herb on earth for us to experience a lil bit of heaven every once in a while, that coupled with fountains of wine, now if that ain't heaven, I don’t know what is. Your view of heaven must be different from mine coz I know , ya’ll know I'll be praising the big guy, he says to Christians, with 72 virgins (just imagine the havoc in that house, 72 women craving for attention) as he whispered to Mohammed, reincarnation at a higher level, as he told most Eastern religions, and New Age spirituality teachings. Anyway, he whispers these things to different people; everyone has some time allocated by the big guy for a one on one. Sometimes if he only has one message for all, he just places it in the notice board for everyone to see, unluckily it's at the bottom of the leaf and most people are not as close to Mary Jane as the chosen few (22.5 million daily therapy attendants, she's good!!). We hear God's voice, all of us do but we don’t always get a clear signal, *bila rasha rasha*. Anyway, some guys thought they were special; they made loads of people believe that they have the clearest signal, special kind of channel for the best and the worst news. We get the supersport 3, MTV, discovery channel, cartoon network, all those other channels but he's the only one with CNN. Since no one else has CNN, nobody else but them knows the going ons of heaven, the CNN programming. They saw how the world will end, but they all get it wrong, recently they have been doing that a lot, the guys in the Bible, the Quran, the ........., and those other books gave it quite a vivid view when they drew the picture.... 

Anyway, the latter created religions, Paul decided Christianity it is, Moses thought Judaism has some swag in it, Muhammad was like, Islam does sound
pure, and so on. But the guys watching that CNN channel lately a really in that high shit, how do they get their calculation wrong all the time. Owuor almost had it with the earthquake coz s'thing shook...nah, nah, that was my cousin Patrick taking a dump, he got it wrong with the earthquake, that Naivasha dude with that Naivasha nuclear story, the so many times these guys have predicted the end of the world, the channel must be flawed........("no, no, no it's coz they have being airing features lately and the memo was an internal thing so earthlings didn't get it", "ooohh someone should alert these guys")..... it’s bad for me especially when it comes to my vices. I had packed, everything was parked, I knew exactly what to park in anticipation to the end of this move. The closer the day came, I had collected water, a lot of water to ensure that wherever they took me I had something for it. If they threw me in hell, the fire goes, the Sergent is in the house and he ain’t burning. With what JC pulled in that wedding, heaven will be beautiful. If Jesus could turn water into wine, and he was only 33 years old, what would his old man who created all the wind from his breath, light and dark with a word, a woman with his hands, yes with his hands on a Sunday afternoon. He created all these beauty with breathes, words and hands, if his son could turn water into wine at such a tender age, what could the big guy accomplish with water? Water I had packed, a lot of water I had packed just for me to wake up in my bed the next day, fully fucking DRESSED!!! (You don't want to be a naked ghost now do you?)I was mad as hell, at first it was God, I kept screaming out for him to come talk to me, he was ignoring me a lot lately. How long has it been? 24 seconds and he doesn’t even try to sshhh me, you know when you are bugging him and he’s listening to a little girl’s prayer. I learn’t a while back that the heaven’s communication is something like, hundreds of channels depending on whichever channel your  religion transmits in, we got the Christian channel, Islam channel, Gothic channels, atheists channel, and a whole lot of channels, and everyone is trying to get through to request something. It’s noisy up there, and the guy is sometimes rattled and just shuts down all the channels, all of them except for the children’s channel. Prayers by small children are honest, sweet, requests with so much belief it makes anyone smile, whichever religion the child professes, her prayers are simple, a good friend to play with, a good meal, some simple toys, something that they need. Not what all the other channels demand, higher salaries, some drunk is praying for some answers in the classroom, a gambler demanding for more money to gamble, demanding things that they don’t need, they don’t even keep their appointments in months, or at least send a thank you note to yours truly.  When it gets too noisy, Big Guy switches off all the other channels, and listens to the children’s channel, it soothes him. Anyway, I was bugging him at that particular moment, after bugging for close to 4 minutes, he eventually shooed me, and pointed to the notice board, apparently that’s what all the

created with God's hands

channels were screaming “what the heaven was happening?”. Anyway, a lot of people had packed ready for the ride but he had tried to tell us nothing was happening. He gave you a week’s weather forecast, including two days after the 22nd date of May 2011, he had that on the notice board too, people haven’t been listening to him (or reading the notice board), you guys packed and these guys misquoted when translating God’s language after a little too much wine. Story short, I realized that I was mad at the wrong person, that douche bag should be punched in the face. I was packed for heaven because I believe that if Jesus could turn water into wine, the least that God could do is turn water into vodka, ya dig!! Anyway, guys got it wrong, the day passed, and the channels are still wrecking havoc.   

What were we talking about again? Am at Jay Jays’ place, with her small
brother Feddy and Coconut. Her kids Ray and Roy are around too, and Joyce’s kid Jeff too. We all love her [place coz she loves to baby everyone, she cooks nice, watches us when we are almost totally fucked and knows when you need to hit the bed. She reminds me of my big sister, Euna, don’t do this, sit over there, don’t do that, you smoke too much of this Coconut shit, don’t pour another drink, go home and sleep. It sounds like she kills the fun but that is not even remotely true. Her house has a party mood at all times, the cool party kind where we chill, everyone sitting on the floor pouring our vodka, chewing our *khat *and smoking our stuff. She knows when to let you party and when to let you sleep even if you don’t know your own limits, she knows. And she knows better than to let you drink with an empty stomach.

I know this has been a long ride and I do apologize for not completing any of my stories. However, I do hope that you had as an awesome ride as I did. Remind me, we need to talk about Sunsets, I promised to write someone something about a sunset.

Am the one

Before me there was many
After me there will be none
Am the one 

That's Jay'z flow in "Guilty Until Proven Innocent", and maybe a life of a stranger I’ll one day call me, my friend or someone I know or not. Like Barrack Obama, the first black us president, Osama bin laden, the first universal fear of all Americans and other white people. Come to think of it.....aaaaaahh forget it.... Off firsts and onlys





(...Once the sun goes down
Summer love *2
aint always gonna be around
aint always gonna be around
aint always gonna be
So I write our days down
Because summer love
aint always gonna be around
aint always gonna be around
aint always gonna beas the sun goes down
....)

That's summer love by Denique, I love that song probably coz I live summer all year...hehehehe, I know you're the jealous type... ,yes all summer year everyday, lovely, just lovely. Anyway, "am the one" moments, are in the lines of the first ever woman, Lillith even though Eve took all the credit, but not to worry coz even that telephone guy took some other guys’ moment too (heard he was French too). The first man Adam, The first black man to win a major golf trophy Tiger Woods, Stone Cold Steve Austin, first universally loved superstar, Shawn Michaels had a few haters(even Indians closed shop when Stone Cold took over the ring). These are all "am the one" moments that Jay-Z was talking about but my aim ain't that high.

Am pretty sure that by now 20 s'thing years down the line that I've lived, I've had a few "am the one" moments on someone, moments that even though I don't know of their existence, most of them at least, someone else does. I am okay with impressing one person at a time than the whole world at once. I think of it this way, if I walked in Lionel Messis' shoes, rather played in them, during that precise moment when he picked that ball and the whole of Manchester united players were moving to that new Party Rock Anthem shuffle, and swayed that ball to a rising world in respect to the best footballer in the world, you would make them weep. Cry like their mothers when they first heard them cry or saw them smile for the first time kind. But if you could make one persons world rise in such kind of awe, you would be the most fulfilled man in the world. For firstborn sons, the first day your father saw his first born son and his world was reset. From the adjacent local den imbibing some illegal brew, staggering to settle the maternity bill and looked at your sorry but beautiful ass and for the first time in his adult life, stood straight, sobered up and honestly smiled. The day that he took a u-turn and walked with you to that huge house in Muthaiga. You have an ''am the one'' moment. For those who didn't get that lucky and their fathers tried the u-turn and staggered to a totally different path I do apologize but if those guys can aim lower than Jay-Z, we can beat them by going a step lower.

We've had a couple of flings and one somehow special thing that girls like to give l-words a lot, ''lusty dress'' they say in their minds, coz when they say lovely dress, in their heads they are screaming, ''god, i would sooooo love Sergent to tear this dress off of me'' I see it in all of the smiles, tongue biting, lip and finger licking little looks when they admire that dress, and ''lusty dress it is''. They say they have ever fallen in love. If you were that one man who walked and made that woman's mouth taste like bile, eyes rolling throwing up.......just kidding.......you made a young maiden of amazingly smooth skin and soft lips hug her pillow at night dreaming of nature recreating with all inputs supplied by yours truly, biting an apple from your mouth all ripe, almost as ripe as her breasts, hair dripping as she rises from the water, she takes you in every of her happy places. She wakes up with a smile every morning as you are the first thing she sees when the rays hit the walls and draw an image of you in her room. That is an 'am the one' of the moment. Whatever happened when you finally opened your mouth and crashed her dreams, you had a moment which is your own and yours alone and no one will ever take that away from you. Someone may come along and try to take it away by finally realizing her dreams, but you were the reason she had those dreams, you gave her the standard that she'll measure all other men who will come after you.

These are big moments for people but none of us know if we've had such moments, no one has a clue. If someone has ever made you feel like if God could grant you one wish, it would be to live this moment for life kind of moment, you could never find the words to explain it to them. If someone makes you feel like you are the most important person in the world for the first time in your life, that feeling sets a bar, and only one person can give you that feeling again, or maybe top it, a soul mate. It's a balance thing my research shows, equal of pros and cons. For soul mates, it's always 10 cons to 10 pros, 10 of the things you love the most about a person and 10 of the things you hate the most about them. When you hit it off whatever hits home first that’s what you'll always see and if pros win, you'll love her with all her flaws (they'll show up coz you stuck around to find out) but if the cons hits home first, you will never stand the site of her and you will never see all the beauty that is her (you never stuck around). For soul mates, it's never a thin line; it's an all out hate or deep into the cracks kind of love. Most of us compromise coz a 10 is rare, and in 10, only 2 accounts for beauty , so when I call you a 1.8, it means you are a nine. My scale is something like this

Beauty                                                  2

Elegance                                               1

Educated                                              1

Likes my friends                                   1 (especially Jnr, he's fragile)

Loves kids                                            1

Cooks well                                           1

Can dance                                            1

Can sing                                               1

Loves weed                                         1 

That list is from the most to the least important. I know at times my priorities do change but if in this lifetime, I will meet such a woman who has these qualities, her flaws will go unnoticed. I guess that's why we're politely advised that we should avoid meeting such people, as my friend Obiefuna* puts it ''atakunyia kwa meza na utapanguza''. Am hoping she won't get to doing that. If you have ever made a man feel this way, any man,  you are a woman blessed with an "am the one moment". Congratulations.

I do have a couple of things I hate the most about a woman, but you know me, I’d rather focus on the positive. It is common for me to dream of a beautiful woman in a nurses uniform singing in the kitchen, hips swaying to sounds of John Legend from her ipod, lighting a leaf after a good meal watching discovery channel since the kids are crashing at Jnrs’ place. I don’t know if it’s in Gods plans for me to meet such a being, but if I ever do, I hope it’s close to the beach. If I never do, I’ll compromise my list and go for a 9, and this time I don’t mean a 1.8, but a 9 on my list. However, the 9, which this time means a 1.8, would highly be appreciated.

I don't know if I have had such a moment but I do hope that before I kick the jug (we live in towns, people don't have buckets. I don't have a jug either so for me it's the neighbors jug when the day comes. At least he'll say he ever did something for Me.), I want to have given someone that feeling. I'll settle for an honest smile, goose bumps, or a simple swing of the hip to attract yours truly.

Goodnight ya'll

By the way Obiefuna* is Mutale’s nickname. The star was only meant to arouse you curiosity.

Something else, I have a friend who loves her Batman costumes and loves Robin too.