Happy New Year folks.
I know it is a little bit too late to be saying it but let’s not crucify each other just yet. I mean, Jesus was just born the other day ama? Lets wait till he gets forty and then we can drill nails into each other. It is still too early in the year to be hauling pellets. I would go into detail of how that holiday should be renamed because Jesus wasn’t actually born on 25th December, and instead modified to Sir Isaac Newton Day (25 December 1642 – 20 March 1726), but I am afraid I will be made a prayer item and a New Year Resolution by the dutiful sons and daughters of the faith.
Along with that, I am still reeling from the holiday break, and that is why I do not have a story for you guys this week. So I shall start my first post of 2013 by telling you about my experience this past festive season.And it all begins by lamentations against whoever was contracted to build the road stretching from Mau Summit region to Kericho. That person should be fired. Whoever it is, he needs to be forcibly evicted together with his family back to China or wherever. He has been building that road for the past five years now, and still, up to date there is no difference of note that we can speak of. He is totally slinging mud onto Baba Jimmy’s track record on infrastructure.
And if anyone was to praise Kibaki’s infrastructural legacy to anyone who lives on that stretch, I wouldn’t have any compunction is he gets smacked in the face. I mean, ever since I have been using that road on my way to Krypton, it has always been rough and rugged. To the residents there, a good road is as legendary as the days Uhuru Kenyatta used to be sober!Speaking of transport, I didn’t know that City Hoppa, KBS and Paradiso plied the Nairobi-Kisumu route. Okay, not on a regular basis, but matatu operators follow money wherever it goes. Just like prostitutes- when the get wind that tea is being harvested in Kericho, and workers are smiling all the way to the bank, that’s where they go. Same to when fish is in plenty in Nyanza, and fishstitution season is in boom.
Well anyways.
I met a number of angry watchmen and housemaids at the Kisumu stage, hurling insults at the driver and conductor for having put them on the road for a good twelve hours. A jaunt that shouldn’t take a minute after six hours. And I knew they were watchmen and housemaids because for one, they were en-route to Kakamega, and secondly they were travelling on a minibus which had the bus fare rates for Kayole, Donholm and Dandora on the inside. That plus the fact that the conductor was a Njoroge. Inside the bus, babies strapped on their mother’s backs wailed from hunger and angst, chicken cackled at the noise. Of course there had to be chicken! The story went like this; Njoroge and the driver were aware of the transport crisis that had befallen travelers during the festive season, and had decided to change their route from Kayole-Town to Nairobi-Kakamega.
Need I say that Njoroge has never been anywhere past Kangemi? So they began their journey from the green city under the sun at 10pm, but got lost somewhere and ended up in Kisii, and then they had to guess their way back to the Kericho junction that luckily led them to the lakeside city at 8am. So there they were stranded, without a clue as to what direction leaves Kisumu to Kakamega. And after all this time, akina Wafula were steaming with rage and promising to crucify Njoro at Omusalaba(there is a place like that- where Wafulas play Roman Soldiers on Njoroges). They had to hire a tout who plies that route to direct the driver to their destination.
For the New Year, I was in Siaya. The home to a huge chunk of professors in University of Nairobi. There is a new supermarket. Yaaay! There is also a Bata outlet. Other than that, it is the same old dusty town where the sun takes a break at midday to smile at earth and turn people’s skin to charcoal.
It is from here that I got the news about how Mama G (remember her? The evil lady from all Nigerian movies) had spread her wings into Kenyan politics. Her dark forces have permeated into that oenophile from Gatanga and made him the center of ridicule. The same beer aficionado who made a computer error of 10 million shillings and now shakes his mane and prides himself as a young man of the ‘digital’ age. Which digital youth can make an error for six zeros? The devil is in deed a liar. But the jokers card landed right in the hand of the son of Vihiga. Mpango wa kando of the aforementioned righteous lover of brown bottles. The one who earned the watermelon tag from Kalonzo.
This guy really thought that a husband would actually abandon his wife of so many years, and take over her position in their matrimonial bed for more than one day!
In the same light, I have to hand it down to the Consider It Done man. His campaign poster is still one of the best. The rest of the people here in Kisumu running for the many elective posts are the greatest joke after the invasion by dark forces into the Jubilee camp. Posters looking like obituaries! The only thing missing is the Sunrise and Sunset years on the sides and baaam! There goes an obituary littering every wall in town. And I remember asking myself, ‘Who died?’
Anyway, as I said, this post was to remind you that The Real G Inc made it into 2013. I have a few resolutions for this year like hitting the gym. Man, I am developing love handles! Damn. Where once existed a pack of six sexies now bulges a pack of naso-labial folds. Hell, I can balance a coin on my belly while standing! Other than that, I hope to make it into mainstream media, even though that seems to be a tall order. It’s a resolution, and I hope it doesn’t last till March 4th and then gets carried forward to 2014.
Stay safe, folks.
P.S Feel free to share the highlights of your holiday here too. And as Renee would say, I have deliberately left typos in for your enjoyment and delight.
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