Posts Tagged ‘Rongai’

The Sugar Mummy

Posted: September 20, 2015 by ketihapa in Drama, Life, Musings
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Usually, I am a pretty normal guy, at least I hope I am. I have more or less the same problems most guys have; girl problems, money problems, beer problems, Arsenal problems (this was compounded yesterday, sigh), appearance problems- like most guys, when i step out of the shower i tend to think about where i will find money that day, not lotion. I know I have a brilliant mind,but sometimes I wonder how my brilliant mind is going to feed me. But at the end of the day, I try my best to make it work; I have to. We all have to try.

But is there a line as to how far you should try to make it? What are you allowed to do and what aren’t you allowed to do for money regardless how difficult it is proving for you to make money? Murder? Prostitution (stop looking at me weirdly, male prostitutes exist and they are called gigolos)? Theft and Scams?

I have been struggling with that question all morning today. Ever since some weirdo psycho sent me an SMS introducing himself as a brother from abroad (read Rongai), and that he was in search of a sugar mummy who could.. pause… satisfy his needs.. pause… Isn’t it supposed to be the other way round? The sugar mummy finds a guy that can satisfy her needs? Whatever happened to this world. Anyway, my first instinct was to ignore the idiot and move on with my life, but not before taking a screenshot of the message. (Stop judging me, it was funny!)

I proceeded to post it on Whatsapp on a special group of guys, all amazing writers like me, that we call the Lounge -you should be a writer and join by the way.. you will never get bored, only your phone will run out of charge rapidly. Even Biko Zulu- yes, that Biko Zulu- and Magunga are part of the community. Then Essie (she is the proud owner of five husbands in the lounge, including me) suggested I should send a reply; pretend to be a woman and play along. Troy (he did the guest post The Surrogate) did warn me but his warning came a little too late. I had already sent the reply.

Dont worry,I will not make you beg for the screenshots, hehe. This is how I instilled some discipline in a man who was clearly going beyond the line. You simply cannot try to make money this way,not in this age of HIV/AIDS anyway. And that is the least of the problems. You haven’t considered her husband sniffing you out and choking you to death. And if you, I should tell you that I despise you for not being man enough to tackle your problems like a man.

Here goes:

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Yup, I told Moses to find a fucking job. Was I too harsh? Haha. I dont think so. And Rongai people, seriously? You see why we don’t take you guys seriously?

 

Lighters up, ladies and gentlemen. You are about to be de-lighted

Last week was quite uneventful; except for the slight tremor in Nairobi on Monday morning and the blackout on Wednesday night, there was really nothing much. The tremor never made it to be a news item although Kenyans on Twitter did manage to blow it out of proportion, as usual, and it ended up being a trending topic for most part of the morning exclusively in Nairobi, with people in Rongai having been warned against trying to fit in. The blackout on the other hand did make it to be a news item. Reason, the blackout was in fact a national event, which somehow managed to extend beyond the borders of our beloved country and into the little landlocked country of Rongai, whose citizens as I later learnt, finally got to understand what life in Kenya is as they were plunged into darkness for four days.

But that was beside my point. Wednesday to say the least was one of the most chaotic nights of my life. I had been looking forward to getting home early from work because as it turned out, a team of midgets from Spain with unique diving talents was due to play 11 old people from London that are funded by divorce settlements and a wealthy Russian mafia boss. I’m talking about the Barcelona vs Chelsea game for those of you who haven’t realized who I’m talking about yet. I therefore needed to get drunk as soon as possible so I would have the strength to sit and hurl insults throughout the entire match without necessarily having to watch the game. Needless to say, I was home by seven pm and in the pub by twenty minutes later with my good neighbour Gitonga, who as his name suggests, is a wealthy man with everything except money.

Having secured seats at our favourite corner, beer-shara was soon underway; it didn’t take long for the alcohol to kick in and Gitonga was soon dazzling everybody with his pre-match analysis, that he had researched using my phone mind you. Not that I really cared, he is fun to watch football with and it was in fact the reason I brought him along in the first place. By eight the place was almost full to capacity; nothing brings men together than alcohol coupled with a night of Champions League football and reports of free oil from a fallen oil tanker, confirmed or otherwise. We even placed bets. Then the lights flickered. Once… twice… thrice…. Then it was dark and the place turned chaotic. Somebody told Baba Boi (read the bartender) to keep away bottles of STONEy from anyone who happened to be from Komarock.

Ten minutes later the lights were not yet back so Baba Boi asked for volunteers to go buy diesel for the generator from the nearby petrol station. Gitonga and I volunteered and we left just as Baba Boi went to fetch the generator. Gitonga has this incredible torch that is made is China that has incredible capabilities as a phone too and we used it to find our way to the petrol station and back to the pub in five minutes. We were determined to watch this match but fate had other ideas. As it turns out the generator had not been used in a long time and wouldn’t even start. We embarked on a hunt for another pub that had a working generator. We ended up travelling all the way to Donholm where we endured watching 90 minutes on our feet and I finally learnt how to iron my clothes without electricity. The trick is to get the iron box hot, so you simply place the iron box on a controlled flame and hope it doesn’t burn.

Anyway I have never cursed KPLC more. I cursed them even more the next day when I found out that their excuse for this gross violation of human rights that prevented millions of football lovers countrywide from watching Chelsea’s historic win over Barcelona and even resulted in the death of an innocent woman in a hospital at the coast was “A fault in one of our substations in Juja”. Condescending bastards even went on say that the power failure was a Current event. Okay, that was funny and I hope you get it, but still. Shouldn’t somebody tell them already to plant bulbs if they want proper power plants not the fake ones they currently have? I have a valid point here; just as it is valid to say that KPLC get their electricity from electrons and morality from morons.

Once a pun a time, KPLC used to be up to date because they were to be current specialists… I even used to joke that the lights usually go out because they like each other. Now, honestly they are just a bunch of, literally, dark sadists who are delighted when Kenyans get de-lighted. I understand the rise in cost of production of HEP power because it is true we faced some rather dry spells, but how do you explain paying more for more power outages? And that is why I have made a stand. I am no longer paying for electricity; I am going solar. Hell, Samsung even have a solar powered laptop, which for the record I find really discriminatory considering the device is only sold in Africa like they still think we’re a dark continent. Okay, again, KPLC are proving them right.

To the rest of you, if you do continue paying for power blackouts, know that you’re only making it easier for the fat cats in that damned company to buy more Volts-Wagons, sorry Volkswagens, with your hard earned money. So I will tell you this, if your lights go out, pray. If they are not back in five minutes, read my advice again and if they are not back by the time you finish re-reading, stop whining and pay the damn bill; it was your choice anyway. Anyway there is this wedding I want to attend badly so I am off till next week. Apparently Mr. Ohm is marrying Mrs. Ohm because he could not resistor… Bye till then.