Posts Tagged ‘KFC’

NAIROBI ACCENT

Posted: August 28, 2016 by ketihapa in Why?????
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Dear Gladwell,

You were right. And wrong at the same time. Men born and brought up in towns are a problem. Men born and brought up upcountry are good. I agree, men brought up in Nairobi are a problem. As you pointed out, they all love pizza. They all have a fetish for emojis. :C And they all have a weird taste in clothing. Half of them wear skinny jeans and laugh at baggy trousers.

You forgot one thing; they all have the Nairobi Accent.

The Nairobi Accent is good;  It has got a lot of people employed. Homeboyz, Capital FM, etc…  Half of the guys there don’t know the proper spelling of pronunciation, yet, they are experts telling everybody how to pronounce KFC properly as ‘Kei Eif Cei’ because Kienyeji Chicken is Kei Eif Cei chicken…. Chicken that a Luhya guy James Bonded off a chopper because it was free at a funeral. It got him Nation wide fame by the way. And a free airplane ride. (And half of us haven’t even boarded a plane yet- the most we have flown is Angry Birds, over a bunch of angry, over green, over fed pigs, that stole our cartoon eggs.)

See, the point is, nobody can explain where the Nairobi accent came from. At all. We will be quick to point out USIU. And Strathmore. But we all know they pronounce computers as kampyuters, yet half of them can’t even compute 1+2. It’s Threy to them. But hey, it’s kampyuting. What the hell would I knouuw abait it? My English isn’t that good; haven’t been to either schools of late. And my lecturays were from Muchatha as I am.

You see, Gladwell, you’re being petty. Or as they would pronounce it, perry.

First and foremost, it’s sora, not soda. And I’m getting a fana  bleck curren, not a fanta black currant. I hope we’re on the same page. Then we don’t go to animal orphanages. We go to zoos. To watch elephens and lyans. Lions are too over rated. And it’s Ryaena not Rhino. Their haans are fiesam. I am stepping out of bounds, sorry. I din wan you to think I wa a hyener.

Second, I loved your post. But sisi kama watu tumezaliwa ocha we have to remind you, it’s not all about Ugali. It’s not about not cuddling. We actually love cuddling; but with the right girl. Those that will kiss us and tell us they wish they could make ugali as good as we do. Those that will be confident enough to tell us that they had sex with other guys but they are sorry we weren’t the ones they had sex first with. Those that will tell us that we seem old, yet, are better than the born tao sponsors their friends told them about even if our English sounds imported from Uganda.

Third, Arsenal won today. Pole, I am being the exact definition of the guys that were not raised in Kayole, but it feels good!!!!

Fourth, I still dont understand the Nairobi Accent; or why i didn’t talk about it. Just know one thing, if you call it a torch instead of a flashlight when you’re in USIU, you’re done.

Kind regards,

Ketihapa.

 

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Seriously, if you havent listened to Echosmith's Cool Kids, you need to ASAP

I wish that I could be one of the cool kids, coz all the cool kids, they seem to fit in… Echosmith said this. I am inclined to agree… cool kids do seem to fit in. I have only one problem, who exactly are cool kids. I would stop writing this post if at least one of you had a solid answer but none of you do, IMO. You all seem to have exemplary different definitions of whom a cool kid is. And yes, nobody seems to have a concrete answer. Not even the coolest kids (that I know) can answer this question. So, yes, you can understand why I decided to do this post. I am tired of being labeled uncool along lines that nobody really understands. There are more double standards than that ex of yours that still swears Water is Life yet KNEC swears they taught her that water is H20. Whom do you believe?
It is in this light that I decided to do a little research on whom exactly should be considered a cool kid.
Echosmith swear that a cool kid (despite already being cool themselves) that a cool kid is that person whose heartbeat seems to be faster than yours yet you all have the same heart rate. That person who- whether you’re walking together with or not- never seem to walk in a straight line. Pardon me guys, but I honestly think- if my biology teacher wasn’t as bogus as the principles of life she taught me- that the first person is suffering from Blood Pressure while the second is suffering… sorry scratch that… (If you literally did, congratulations. You are a DJ and effectively a cool kid.)…  enjoying something my Chemistry teacher introduced me, then tried to tell me wasn’t awesome despite giving me numerous tests and exams on it… Alcohol.
Then there’s Facebook. According to Facebook… sorry guys, can’t find anything that’s cool about Facebook or anyone on it. The only way you guys on Facebook are going to be cool is if Facebook freezes your accounts.
Twitter. Sodom and Gomorrah if you will. According to Twitter, you are a cool kid if you meet the following criteria: First you have at least 2000 followers and receive about 400 nudes per day. Then, you have linked your IG to your Twitter account. You also need to tweet things that don’t necessarily make sense, but which people (read other cool kids) can relate to. You also need to have lunch at KFC on a daily basis and post photos of your lunch on the aforementioned IG account. Failure to post the said pic means you had lunch so awesome it couldn’t even be captured on a camera. This includes special treats like Air Burgers and Imagine Pizzas. You also have to be light skinned. If people cannot see it, you are allowed to take a torch and brighten the area of skin you need them to see before posting it on, you guessed it, the aforementioned IG account.
You also need to be very outgoing and attend all sporting events, including imaginary ones like Unicorn Hunting and Bungee Climbing (I personally thought it was Bungee Jumping, but hey, I am not a cool kid.) You have to have a girlfriend that is very okay with you receiving the above mentioned nudes and who would be willing to give you a BJ on top of the Bungee rope that the two of you just climbed. She, bae, in other words, needs to have personal beef with that Safaricom chic that tells her you are not available because she gets overly jealous and feels the entire world is at her feet… including the condom shoes she wears because she doesn’t want to expose her feet to premature pregnancy.
To be deemed a cool kid on Twitter, you need to be not more than 19 years of age. By this time, which by default you’ll have more than more than 2000 followers, you also need to own a house and a car and not complain when it rains because your said car can also transform into a chopper and fly to Mombasa because cool kids expect the weather in Nairobi to beg them to come back. By extension, they also don’t spend time in traffic. Traffic stops for them, just like Cocaine is the one that suffers an overdose of them. To them, everyone is a feminist. In fact, they refer to our Eminem as Feminem.
Then there’s the parents’ description of a cool kid. I will not dwell on this, but the rest of us know that an African mom’s definition of a cool kid is one that gets straight A’s in school and doesn’t get a girlfriend till form 24, and knows how to avoid other cool kids like the plague. In fact, church wine isn’t really made of grapes and doesn’t contain any alcohol. If you drink too much of it and you get drunk, you will be beaten up for trying to consume too much of the blood of Jesus.
Then there’s what you think. Honestly, I can’t really tell you if I am a cool kid, but I do know this one thing; a cool kid does not make stupid typos. Also, a cool kid does not tell people that he got her pregnant by accident because he knows she did not happen to have been walking on the street then she slipped and accidentally fell on his dick. He is responsible enough to acknowledge he got her pregnant and will not look for a scumbag doctor to perform an abortion. He works hard to achieve his goals in life and he will be there for, not only his friends, but also his family. That IMO, is what makes a cool kid.

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But Why? Lord!? Why won't they tell me I am awesome!?

It is officially three weeks since my accident, and approximately four weeks since I joined Instagram. Yes, I know, I know. I vehemently swore a couple of months ago that I would never join Instagram, or IG, as I hear cool kids call it nowadays. It wasn’t anything I had against IG, but I have always felt Instagram is for girls whose fathers are really disappointed of them. As for my accident, ladies, hold your horses, no accidental babies were made in any back seats- it was a genuine accident. I will probably have a scar on the right side of my face just above my right eye for the time being, but I can assure you I am still as handsome (no pun intended) as ever… *wink*
Anyway, yesterday evening, after reading the much talked about fuckboy (If you’re the author, I admire your writing prowess, I just don’t respect you because you and Njoki Chege are unmistakably similar), I decided to reply to it. People have consequently argued about it all day. I was probably a little harsh, but yeah, I felt pissed off. But the thing is, early morning today, which was completely unexpected since I am rarely on Facebook, I find a message, again completely coincidental, from Joe, telling me that he belongs to a group of bloggers that have actually been readers of my blog, and who think I would be an excellent addition to their Whatsapp group. Ladies, I think I now understand why sweet words send streams down your panties.
The problem is, as awesome as it was to be considered awesome, it left half a dozen of unanswered questions. The biggest one of them being, why wont women find me awesome as well???? Whyyyy??? Followed closely by, should I actually start taking a career in writing more seriously than I have been doing over the past couple of months? Magunga and Ifehenia think I would go farther than I already have should I ever decide to be a full time writer. My folks, not so much; not after they spent half their income every month to get me to complete my undergraduate studies. That, I was able to logically deduce.
What I couldn’t quite explain was the former. I would love to understand women. Remember the story of the guy that found a magic lamp and on rubbing it a genie appeared that asked him for the proverbial wish and the dude said all he wished for was a road that joined the Earth to the Moon, and the genie laughed and said that was impossible, and that he had to make another wish? When the guy said he wished he could understand women the genie promptly shut up and built the road? Well, yeah, that is exactly what I feel right now as well. I will never understand women.
What do I have to do exactly to be considered awesome by you ladies out there? I am genuinely confused. Some female friends (yeah, sorry guys, I too, are inevitably on friend zones on some girls’ lists) suggested I learn cooking. I did that. Now, practically none of them can cook anything better than I can. Did any woman call me awesome? I would honestly be more shocked if they did, than if I ever found myself having lunch at KFC. ‘Next, they suggested I start writing, one of them actually did the post ‘Date a Guy That Writes.’ Look where that’s got me. Replying to annoying posts like Bye Fuckboy. SMH. Most recently, I was informed I should buy myself a car. We both know that isn’t happening this year… soo…. LOL. I hate my life.
Now, I am at the point where I feel I have to give an ultimatum to these women. If none of you tells me I am an awesome human being in the next week, I am declaring celibacy. Because FFS I really do not see the point of trying so hard and none of them will ever consider me awesome enough to offer nudes. Or perhaps I should just stop listening to my female friends, whose friend zones I really have no hope of leaving any time soon. Oh, crap, wait. I think that was an own goal.
I give up.  😦