Sexual Offenses Bill

This has to be the most debated and all encompassing (in terms of Kenyan MPs attending Parliament) bill since the constitutional debate. Reasons for this vary, from accusations of ‘imposing western ideologies’ (this we’ll hear till Kingdom come), to ‘lack of wholesome consultation’ by the movers of the bill.

Just a poser:
Why is it, that the victims of sexual violence, almost always end up victimised?

Easter Special! 2006 Edition Part 2

Sunday 16th,
The Mgemas-The ever Lovely Nyakomaber and Mgema are just chilling. After watching almost the entire Prison Break season one on Saturday, Sunday was looking like a quiet day..and thus is started.

But knowing how guys rarely get together and have ‘a lot of things to do’ when it comes to jus getting together, The Mgemas wanted guys to hang out in their digz (Gulliver tuna understand ) because this hasn’t happened since they got their Penthouse (with a view, but do I say?!) It seemed like the perfect opportunity..(Afterall My-key hatakagi tujue kwake-msee, we u-ishi?)

Happy easter to u! Hangin out in the digz tu..thinkin of havin you guys for drink Kesho.. Iko Mtembezi…lakini hata leo mnaweza come na take away!, read the sms to Che.

Hi dear! Happy easter, I can see am not the only one workin this wknd! Mpango ya Kesho? U’re welcome for byob at our hse..from sunrise till tues morn!!, read the one to K.

Come wit newspaper too, read the one to Kababy (aka Wangariwa)..

The My-key, The Ich were given theirs verbally-but alas, almost everyone was busy! Someone
Decided to do the rest of the world a BIG FAVOR and return The Rungz to the National Park, where he belongs!! The Ich was joboing in the digz..so it would come "from seven".

Fast-forwarded- late afte>>Nyakomaber and Mgema are catchin a movie, enjoyin their space, love, time each other’s company…Mtembezi, when Mgema’s phone rings! The Matriach…Thirty mins later, Mgema and Monsieur Mundu Witu are having a quick one in the locals as the proceed back to the Mgemas Penthouse..with a view (blah blah blah). Sijui Che alikuwa ameamkia wapi, nita-explain..

We reached the digollos to find Nyakomaber ready for the rave (at seven thirty-well’ to be fair she was bo-aad), but after kidogo storos wit Mundu Witu, she told the cab guy to take a hike. Shortly, a knock- It’s Ngash! Now this guy has been around all weekend mbaka it feels like he live here-bana hata time yangu na Nyako…!! More storos, Mundu Witu is on that Mtembezi EXCITEDLY-Walalala! It reminded me of a punda in Samburu seeing the floods from MT Kenya after that looong drought…I’m thinking they put that nozzle on the botties to slow down guys with such tabias..

This guy never let’s you down-he proceeds to do only what he can-unleash ‘a ka-new one’ on the Krew EVERY time you hook up!! First, you’re given her cv, folio, shoe size, perfume, auntie’s-sisters-cousin’s kid’s info (by the time she arrives, you feel like she’s part of the Krew), then her tastes blah blah blah.. So now this one (so the joke goes) was going to fika the Mgemas' Penthouse, and ask The Che to take her to a doggolos with seats…..!

Meanwhile it's seven-ICH, The Ich is supposed to bring dish-time’s a-flyin’, guys are hungry, Mtembezi getting sweeter, but also ishain. So I holla at my peeps “ Sup dawg- You still coming?”

He gives the phone to Nderitu!!

He asks for incentive to kuja!

They start complaining of rain (it wasn’t even drizzlin!!), trip to atm, buyin the food, getting a loose one, blah blah blah…what’s a brother to do when you get such a loud hint? I BANGED the phone on him and deleted the conversation!

Back at the ranch:
The Che hollas at it’s mamtuse- good things come in small packages…and gives me the phone “Just hold on, talk to someone who can give you directions..” She’s coming from Kangundo!! So here we are, frantically thinking of where to get furniture in the middle of the night-especially considerin I don’t have The Ich’s number anymore!!!
Half an hr later, she calls from the roundabout, and I direct her to the hse! (Kama mbaya mbaya-The Che will seat on a cushion and beba her! Ama waende Galileo’s……..)
Huko welcoming party, red carpet, brollies, The Che's even chomoad incense for the house-Walalala-the extent men will go to impress mamas!

She turns out to be an easy goin one! Che, get a job as a movie buff-those things of exaggeratin n stuff would come in handy!! To the extent of offering to take The Nyakomaber to buy kukus and fries… and some loose ones.Che, huyo weka!

It’s half midnight, guys on the carpet katikaing Saoulo, The Ng’ash dancing rumba/mugithi, too much noise for the neighbors! We decide an hr at Q’s in order.

But alas! Mundu Witu’s ‘Pierre Cardin” thogithis (socks) are soaked wet! Am wondering ala?! He asks for a ka-pair of my cottons..while he tukanas me about how many pairs I should give in exchange (fery demanding beggar, this is!!). And The Mgema sees an opprtunity-so I stokes the fire-kama viatu na socks ni designer, mbona zinaingiza maji? Kwa ufupi, we left the house thirty minutes later……….

Gari mbili- Reyes bila wiper, Ng’ash bila lights-thank God ubabini iko streetlights!!

Q’s…
Wasee msoto, wamewaka kiasi- Nyako na Mgema wanakunywa maji..The rest on a brew. The Che’s mama is on stool, Monsieur amekalia edge ya stool. Then he kulas that Mundu Witu pose-a variation of the fetal position he and Nyako perfected back in the days-only this one he does standing!

Then he starts ‘pouring’ from the seat-understand this picture:
Mamasita is SHORT- her feet on that stool fika Che’s WAIST-and they are dangling on the side!! So now she’s holding him from falling (and possibly killin that last neuron left in lieu of oblongata…) and it’s HILARIOUS!

We are dying, guys have stopped shooting pool, dj has stopped the music…
“Che!” , I holla
“*wathethytehteehj” (*that jibberish only he knows!)
“Che!”
“wathethytehteehj” (Kicheko zaidi)

Then with the grace of a ballet dancer, he starts katikain to the music!! Eyes shut!
We all clap-all of Q’s-
this is an ad!!
Am thinking, bad thing Budweiser, Heineken, Guinness, Malta, Bamboocha Marketing Managers were not here!!! This would have won in the APA Awards...

Half one-we are nodding sana-I make sure the Kids are ok, we make our exit. We are well into Monday-thanks God it’s a holiday!! I can’t wait for Tuesday to blog..the rest of the Krew need to know.

One thing bothering my curiosity-I just wonder how she woke him to get out of the cab....

Easter Special! 2006 Edition

Saturday 15th,
The Mgema has to go to the office (Note, not to work). It fikas the office at half eight and there’s a buzz - two mamas are getting married on that day (whoever gets married on Valentines, X-si, Easter?!!), and you know women and weddings-but I digress. Full of brokenness and not in a particularly flowery mood, weddings are out of day’s schedule…

10.37 am
Can’t stay in this place..body’s on relax mode cruise-control (RM CC), pockets in brokenness-mode FULL-in-control (BM FIC), throat on thirst mode Can’t-wait-to-hammer-that-Mtembezi kunyota control (TM @#$$%#$@!! KM) and dick in…
-my pants!

So my peoples come up with an idea; inhaler in one hand, painkillers on the other, they make the first hint to the workmates- guys, am not feeling well…ten minutes later, n we are on the phone with the ever lovely Nyakomaber, aka Maria Ofelia (Voice of the People). Hallo, hallo…hallo hallo (she understands-private joke)…and rendezvous is arranged for Sarit..

Twenty mins later, The Mgema’s walking in Sarit, Sweets is window shopping with her bro and nephew.. we head for the parking downstairs, and this is where the drama begins.

ASIDE: See, anyone who knows The Mgema knows it doesn’t-pull-punches, tells-it-as-is apologizes-on-a need-to-basis, moves-on with-the-shit-after-knocking-a-neat-Viceroy kinda peeps. It judges on basis of “human”, not uniform, cadre, creed, race, blah blah blah.. ask the traffic cop it told to tuck in his shirt who saluted the reprimand..

Relevance? Refer below…

Sweets has parked the Mgema-mobile, aka Reyes, next to an as-ancient Datsun 120Y two door salon, who’s two lady occupants were getting back to the car from shopping just as we were.. And after loading the car, one proceeds t push the trolley just on the road and walk back to the mo-ats!

And my peeps’ jus standin there in shock thinkin’
“OH NO YOU DIDN’T!!!”
And immediately tells the lady,
“get that off the road!”,
to which she timidly responds,
“but he (watchman, standing eight metres away) will get it.”
And I responds,
“that’s NOT his work!! GET IT OFF THE ROAD!”

And she shame-facedly pushes the trolley back to the side walk and hurriedly gets back to the car.

She’s, understandably, very embarrassed by the whole thing, crowd of onlookers and amused watchie notwithstanding…but worst, IT was a fully frocked NUN!!

Tsk, tsk! This Mgema..I think he just couldn’t wait to get digz to that Mtembezi (Johnny Walker….

BumRoll Calls

The VoK has a mailing list which we use to stay in touch with each other. We are all young professionals, some of us being even practitioners of the globetrotting setup...so it's a fairly convenient way to send a quick laugh around to just keep us sane. To ensure we keep hope alive through laughter, even as we take shit from The Man as we fatten his pockets at the expense of our meagre pittances whose 2 digits are only worth the butchery paper they end up printed on.

Talking about shit...Wacha this week we get the funniest email from Mgema wa Viceroy. Mgema can only be described as an artistic, confident Kenyan whose bursts of randomness and overzealous support for Arsenal are only matched by his undying love for Nyakomaber, the hypotenuse of his triangular heart.

Mgema works in the hospitality industry and this week, management at his jobo decided...fuck hospitality, these employees have to suffer for the sake of the budget...cut costs and corners, and of course recycled paper at any cost. Here are excerpts of the communique for an insight of what transpired:

On 4/3/06, Mgema wa Viceroy wrote:
Sweetie, please buy for me a bib-
Can you guys imagine-they're giving everyone his/her own roll of tissue in the office?!!
At this rate, kesho we'll require hankies on our lapels and name tags with our mommies' phone numbers!!!!!!!!

Yaani these guys are being unlash for TP in rations! Kila mtu na yake! This reminds me soooo much of waaay back in the day in an unnamed nursery school (Ms K, tulikuwa pamoja!) where you had your own TP and safeguarded it like a hockey goalie guards his balls with those "nyeh pads". One miscalculation and shit flies everywhere.

To stoke the proverbial moto, Mgema then in a sonnet dedicated to his love, declares that:

On 4/4/06, Mgema wa Viceroy wrote:
Not funny-seriouly-I had runny-tummy jana!! Walalala! I finished someone's ration before early afte!! At least kulinyesha; kama mbaya na-dunk pale kwa compound halafu nioshe na leaves.....

Some scenarios to paint (ah! not like that!)
- Mgema desperately needs to take the dump of his life...the only mama in the office who might have TP is this fly thing who has always had a crush for him. He has a feeling that ombaring TP and then proceeding to the toi and riproaringly painting the "Armitage Shanks" ceramic bowl brown and green (skumas) and yellow (the mysterious maize seed that shows up and you have no recollection when you last dished "corn" from the barabara) wont up his ante with this mama...what to do, what to do.....

- The boss kujas to Mgema to omba TP. Things have gone awry after a cheap dry fry in a kiosk somewhere in Westlands. As luck would have it, its Mgemas last roll and there is this shell session (say that really fast!) he has been postponing across the whole day, at the expense of guys in his corner of the office enduring odiferous exertions of erratic recto-colonic activities - ah sawa, mishutos if you insist - all day...ata fanya aje, watazamaji?

- The boss notices that the previous days newspapers have been going missing rather mysteriously. All fingers have pointed to Mgema who, despite denying having anything to do with any Houdini-like acts, has inexplicable and massive papercuts on his knuckles. And oh, there have been reports of noises (in conjunction to the raucus that accompanies being in the loo) similar to paper being repeatedly rubbed against either in a bid to soften it to Sta Soft meets Velvex status or to start a fire. Or both. Take your pick.

Peeps just need to get jobos in greater-than-cheapskate establishments, me thoughts......