Friends and when they were

I once had a friend, Muriithi, back in primary school. We both joined the boy scouts not for the discipline or to live by the ''be prepared'' motto, but because every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, we were allowed to skip classes and practice the drills. We did practice the drills, the football kind with a paper ball made nicely using the few skills learnt from Mr. Kibandi aka 'Kigo'. Kigo, everybody loved him for his taunts on kids, but if you forgot to do his art and craft homework, he wasn't funny anymore. My sister Euna used to do a splendid imitation of him and our evenings were filled with laughter, we loved the guy a little more than we cared to admit, we still laugh when my sister gives life to his taunts back in primary school years.

Muriithi was my best friend because as kids, we never really needed to pretend to be who we were not. When he was sent home for not clearing his school fees, school was boring. I did have other friends but he was funnier, more cunning, and in a funny way like telekinesis kind of way, he would feel when the afternoons or the preps weren't working for me and more often than not, he would be along the same line of thought. Ndung'u, the scouts leader was in the same class as Murithi, a few sign words and it was on, freedom to play as he would come knocking at our door calling out for scouts practice. I think the best time of any day when I was in primary school was when the scouts master came calling when class was in progress.

After clearing primary school, we went in different directions. The first few school holidays that followed, we would hook up for a football game with the likes of Samuel, William, a few more friends and Muriithi. He was a great footballer too, not like William or Samuel who were the best, or rather football was a part of them, in fact before I started watching the EPL in 1997 with my favorite team being Newcastle then, I had being recruited to support Tusker F.C by Samuel. We tried not to drift too far from each other for a while and although we never sent each other letters or some other girly emotional stuff, we did try to keep each other updated on what was going on in our lives every small chance we had. With High school however, we are meant to make new friends, join crews that best define you and all that but there is always a catch. You'll have to compromise a few of your traits to fit in. It is the rule of nature.

In high school, you meet people who have lived lives totally unrelating to yours but there are a few things that bring you together. It maybe the music that you love, the kind of movies or books that you'd miss an important appointment for, among other things. In this new found friendship, you start discovering that behind the lifestyle this new friend has is a person who is more or less like Muriithi, or a compromised version of Muriithi. At this experimental stage of your life, you start discovering new things, but with your new friend (s), and the friends you were closest with start fading away. You don't look for them during the holidays anymore, there is no more catching up over football matches and with time you move on from one friend to another.

After high school, the scenario repeats itself again and it's the high school friends that are fading. At this point, almost 20 years of age, choosing the right kind of friends is not as natural as a 5 year old nursery school going kid where the only qualification was ''will you play with me?''. People, at least most people have an idea of what they want to do with their life, including you. It becomes a more of what can I gain from being a friend of so and so, or what image do I portray if I walk with so and so, among other pros and cons. In fly’s plasticity and with the life we are living moving at an unmanageable pace, everybody leaves their masks on even when they go to sleep. We rarely find them at their most natural to find out who they are, what is their favorite colors, what they would love to do before they die, their strengths and their weaknesses ........because we are plastic too. No one is as honest as their younger version and trust has become way too fragile and rare for one to throw around.

Without even noticing it we are changing too. Our trust level is slowly diminishing with own and other experiences teach us to keep our guard up all the time. We build a protective front, a stronger cage for the susceptible heart. We don't trust strangers, and it takes much longer to turn strangers to friends, not like when me and Muriithi and I made friends using a paper ball, when we trusted playmates we met a couple minutes ago no to trip me to get ahead of me. Times were easier then.

At these points in our life, we try to look for minor signs of deceit, watch consistent routines, consistent views and other hazards to you. We don't look at the pros when making friends but cons, reasons not to trust, possibilities of disappointments. We used to look for pros at some point when we were younger, now look at us. A plastic world we have become, plasticity so deeply rooted it would take more than a miracle to unmask. I pity us, I really do.

The longer a friendship lasts, the stronger it becomes. I wish I knew where Muriithi is today, what happened after High School? I wish we went to the same high school, went to college in the same town and get a single room somewhere near campus where we would pick up university girls and hang a sock to signal a visitor from Venus is entertaining one of us. Maybe that's asking a little too much but at least a high school friend. After a few parties and concerts, we completely lost touch.

Don't get it twisted I do have friends, long term friends for almost 10 years now. I trust them with my life because even though we didn't grow up together, but by the time we met the plasticity was manageable. Even though there were pretentious, we didn't need much impressing as teenagers. But I do envy childhood friends. I am not talking about the kind that faded at some point, but the kind that still holds water. My cousin Ken is one lucky guy, he managed to hold on to more than five childhood friends, and I mean friends since nursery school (elementary school for the new generation).

When did making friends turn into a job?

Shoutings and scribblings

I haven't watched the people in the boxes for a while now. I love these people because they are as honest as they come, or maybe it's because we measure honesty depending on how well it makes us feel about ourselves. If I compliment someone on how good they are at what they do best, they cannot stop with the giggling, the teeth display and all that because at that particular point you want that feeling to last for a lifetime and a few generations down some centuries lifetimes.

I gotta explain myself before i break down a couple more mothers down. I hadn't really talked to my girl M. J in a while, about 41 till today, okay she called last week. I mean it was outside and cold, no background music (we doing hip hop today. I think the situation dictates, it's lost music, you lose your way if you live the hip hop music way. Maybe the cars are good, the big houses in MTV cribs, ranches, the blings on their teeth, caviar meals, and all that partying rich is good, but it don't beat beaches. Anyway, cool natural reggae is more suitable but lost music we shall) which means it was going to be short lived. The point, last week was more of a phone call so the time period remains. Fuck, explaining a point tends to lose the point but heck it's done its done. I haven't seen My girl Mary Jane in a couple of days and we finally had a chance to ourselves, hottest chick in creation, being in all of heavens with beauty unmatched, and her smile the rainbows envy. Mary Jane came home,, i gotta walk with you and walk with her side by side, and she does have surprise pulls.

Now, we were some where between , aaaahh, yeah, somewhere between, aaahh F*#* I lost it again DAMN!! Yeah, yeah, honesty level. The point where your first reaction to a comment gives you a chance to live a perfect virtue.

Before i go on, I'll have to let you know that i put my cigarette on the ashtray to show you how serious I am about this relationship with y'all. I love you guys very much, I know you are not many. I know that because most of you are my friends. You see my friends are hot bloods, their blood rushes all the time and sometimes a mini rush is over run when a trailer arrives. (Mary Jane makes me write in parables, ''the god in me she calls it''). Anyway, they are easily distracted and I know its hard to attract their attention for longer than a couple of minutes, no pun intended. They rarely read my blog, because it needs a cool feel. I know about 5 to 10 people read my blog. Am not complaining, I actually love a small crowd (these I have to shout out to,Nyleen Shiku,Sarah Maranga, and Caine Jr have followed my scribbling for a while now, since my fb notes. It may not meaning anything to y'all but it means something to me. Am not the crowd type, I wouldn't handle it very well, but everyone needs a fan and these I believe bought the underground mix tapes). Anyway, I've decided since I have come to learn a small crowd is an honest crowd no more fronting from me.

Where were we again, we swayed too far in the ocean and the winds are changing.......lights a cigarette......adjusts the pillow......pauses, thinking......cigarette on the ashtray.

We judge the level honesty depending on how it makes you feel

Just talked to the boys by the ocean,Feddy Elvis Muigua, Were Amos.,Tichapower Mwalim andLawrence Kamau Njoki. Boys be living good.Andy Ochieng got his firstborn daughter, proud of that motherfucker, we had one hell of a time in Lamu.

How honesty is judged. When you compliment some body, before the brain registers you can't be that hot, your first thought is what makes or breaks the honesty. When you tell me, ''Mwai Kibaki.........'' my first thought will be, ''hehehehe, let's hear this lie.....''

I know by now you already know that I've lost the flow and am actually scrambling for crawlings. I should probably say goodnight to y'all.

Before i go, to all the little girls inside all those beautiful big girls, it's okay to come out once in a while, we love your smile the best

~ Sergent Karegi

If this makes you feel like you should enroll in to Mary Jane therapy session, you probably should.

~ Mary Jane.

If you think Mary Jane is a whore and has fucked every one including the men of God (Moses in The Bible was an all time low), a younger, sexier and cooler sister has opened an office in your neighborhood.

~Betty Brown.

Goodnight y'all and God bless

Just so you know this story was written in three parts. Initially, a minute before MJ dimmed the lights, we were thinking about a post about mistakes am supposed, to finish, a post on my journey from Lamu and Irene creating quite a show en route...and a few stories I should work on.

When I chilled to start the editing, the honesty path came calling, which invited another flow, followed by other flow until at some point I got lost in the chaos. When all the voices in my head start screaming to attract attention because their flow sounds better, it is hard to manage a flow at a time. Each voice throws a tantrum whenever they feel ignored. You therefore have to keep taking notes from them as you walk along.

''just you know that none of you reminded to say this is the fourth part'' Serge

''yes serge'' all voices together

Anyway, when you have conflicting voices, they sometime scrum for attention. This is how a free thinker works, he doesn't suppress any of his voices. The doubts, the strengths, the needs, the pain, the anger, the passion, the need to believe in people or in God, to be free you have to let these voices roar to keep your life from being captive. You have to balance them to keep your sanity, if you let your anger roll louder than your peace, you become an animal and nobody likes to be associated with animals but if you let your peace shout at a pitch louder than your passion, people will walk over you. There is a voice to control another voice.

Shit, I already said goodnight, we'll find time and correct my lack of consistence and inability to complete a story. We will also discuss my beginnings after the end, where I end a story, like am doing now. And your tolerance to such behavior, like you are tolerating right now. You're probably thinking of a better name for these post.

When you are doing that, am going to bed.

Goodnight, for the last time. Not as in last, last (the way a Kenyan girl would say it ''not last, as in last last''~in a sharp soprano.

Anyway goodnight, for the last time, but not last as in last last.

The Happy place

I haven't been home in a while, my other home where freedom to think is real regardless of what your thoughts entail. It's been almost a week now and my happy place feels a little neglected, which is understandable considering I don't usually stay this long without swinging by. It feels like years, that's right, in happy places, we bend the time and space con......(s'thing s'thing, feel free to insert word). I heard that the big guys' view of time is a little different from us mortals in the sense a day is actually a century and a century a day in God years, or something along those lines. I don't have that level of clearance when it comes to bending space and time but in my happy place, they let me squeeze an year in a day, meaning in happy place years, I haven't been home in close to seven years.


I got some groceries on my way home, some spinach too. Call me crazy but am still hoping that one day spinach soup will taste good and I'll eventually live my dream of pulling a Popeye on my Olive. Spinach thrown around some goat piece, potatoes and a whole lotta ''kadhalika'' blends real good and the soup off that ''chemsha'' is heart skipping beats awesome. If spinach soup tasted half as good, maybe, just maybe it would be a little less hated (I don't hate it personally coz I've never really tried it but I hear things). I would experiment with it and a few other ingredients but my second thought is a little uptight especially when it comes to fun involving stuff (God how I hate that voice). I was going to try a quick spinach soup experiment where you use wine instead of water but the buzzkill is all about health, ''you might get sick'', ''don't be a hero'', ''you will hurt yourself'', especially when am thinking of jumping off a boat and swimming to the sunset. I have a few stop gap measures for this particular nuisance, but it's always there in the morning 0630 hrs telling me how I shouldn't be in bed. Am working on a permanent solution but for now, vodka will do.

Some groceries and spinach in my happy place. I love this place coz I let my voices roam, outside my head they go. They are always fighting in my head since the space isn't enough for them to do their own thing plus their are involuntarily work as a team. Ms. Jane and Matt are the chilled out ones, chilling by the beach or in rooftops legs crossed, backs arched back, all smiles appreciating the big guys creation. Johnnie is the paranoid kind, restless too, so we let him roam around. He thinks we could be attacked any moment (by.........sshhh....aliens or dinosaurs.......ssshhhhh.....don't shout, you'll freak him out), he therfore needs to look for the perfect vantage point. There is always a blind spot, even when he is on top of the world, there is noone watching his back is what he says, it's safer to keep changing your spot. We let him walk for as long as he likes.

Jack wants to be the hero, saving dances, catching falling angels or beautiful women, mending broken hearts, and so forth. He is a little full of himself, he thinks he can get his hands on any woman he wants, romantic Jack he calls himself. He loves all women so much he doesn't understand why he has to stay with one. Whenever we are talking to the big guy (it's usually a family thing, all or none), he keeps asking him what he thinks about the one man one woman theory. The big guy never gives straight answers, I think that's where JC got the parables act from, but his metaphors are really hard nuts to crack (tihihihi, haard nuts to crack), and we are yet to crack our nuts.

With Ms. Jane and Matt chilling in the boat discussing all things natural, Johnnie walking off his paranoia and Jack miserably failing to catch falling angels, it's quite up here. A quick look every once in a while just to be sure you can see them, especially Johnnie and Jack, and make sure they don't stray too far is necessarily.

Off to the happy place real quick

Long call

‘‘Hallo ma'am''

‘‘Serge''

''I was going to call earlier.......'' I was a little frantic at this particular point. Scared maybe.

‘‘No need to explain yourself. You seem to forget a lot of things son, including, am always watching''


I am not really sure why I hadn't received any of the bosses’ calls. Firstly, she wasn't making those quick consecutive ones which keep you tied up in one place for ours, nor was she having a bad day where she makes one of those extremely long conversations that you wish she would shut up. I know she can be a pain in the arse sometimes, and we all know hanging up on the boss or not picking up the call isn't the best of ideas.

On a regular day, she calls at least once a day and as a good little soldier I always pick up the phone if am in a position to. If I find that the booth is not secure, I always try to find a clear line I can use unless in an emergency. Normally, the home phone is the most preferred but sometimes we are forced to.....mmhhm.....improvise, especially because most people, let me rephrase that, the productive populace is rarely home. Since no one knows the time that the call will come in we sometimes make do with our office phones, public payphones, and due to the innovations made in the recent past mobile phones.

I was having a lazy day, the kind of day calls bother you a lot. It was about 12 hours since the last call. I didn't want any distractions, in bed a couple of movies and bam, lazy Tuesday it is. The first call came in around 8.00 in the morning, I wasn't even up yet, I hung up. I guess she understood a little, a very understanding woman I must say.

It's cold outside, very cold indeed and getting out of bed has been a problem lately. The boss needed to talk about domestic protection, which wasn't a surprise because that's all she talked about day in day out. She wasn't as insistent as she normally is, well, she can sometimes make movements very difficult for someone if she doesn't get updates on what's happening in her house. If she doesn't call in a couple of days, something is wrong, terribly wrong and for the sake of your job, it's important that you look for an expert to patch you through.

Anyway, it was heading towards noon and I was still hanging up on my boss. She can be very annoying sometimes, especially in days like today when you just want to just pull the blankets and up the volume. I on the other hand can be stubborn when I think someone is being unreasonable. I honestly don’t understand why she has to be the one who always makes the call. I could call her whenever it suits me, but no, she won't even let me have her number. The worst part is when am travelling. I have to sit pretty and wait for her to call, and no offense to women, she doesn't understand the concept of keeping time. Let's just say there have been times when her timing has been terrible and I have seen people literally build booths from nothing, navigating for a little privacy.

Afternoon, and the frequency was a little on the increase. A few voicemails too, about protocols, the need for full disclosure, bitching about this and that but I kept my stance. I guess I wanted to know her limits, how far she would go to get her reports.

She kept pushing, I pushed back. The voicemails were moving from a nuisance to scary, almost threatening. She threatened to swing by the house. After the stories I've heard, and the destruction she has caused in the few places she has visited, this message was now causing discomfiture of spirits. Mother Nature is not the kind of visitor one welcomes with open hands. Not after Katrina, Japan, Haiti, Australia and those not on the list. I don't want to be the reason why she swung by, as we all know what happened when my Japanese friend Kasumi Fujimoto didn't heed her call.



And then, around 0121 hours, she left the strongest message yet leaving me clutching my tummy, with both pain and fear. I had to talk to her now, or right now.

‘‘Hallo ma'am''

‘‘Serge''

''I was going to call you earlier.....''

‘‘No need to explain yourself. You seem to forget a lot of things son, including, am always watching''

Awkward silence

''I had some githeri for lunch''

''I know''

''Rice last night''

''I know''

''Some nyam chom and......''

''I know, now will you shut up and let the fax print?''

''Okay ma'am''

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