EMBU: My CITY, My TOWN! Chroncles of my life in Embu so far.....

If anyone had ever told me that after graduating, my first place of hustle would be Embu Town, I would probably have laughed my ass off or Bitched Slapped he or she or an Andrew turned Audrey or vice versa, Bitch Slaps do not discriminate.

First, I am going to give you a brief geography lesson about Embu town. I do not know when it was established so that will not appear in the geography lesson. It is the headquarters of the newly created Embu County, it is populated by the Embus and it is in the former Eastern Province.Thats all the geography I know about this town and thus deem it relevant, factual and enough to help with my story.

 

I being a pessimist, you would be forgiven to think I was not elated, but I reveled at this this new adventure and opportunity. I had never really experienced Embu town. The best I knew about the town was the Matatu (Taxi) stage. So off I went in such of the Money, Mulla, Chums, Pesa, Mapeni etc...you get the picture, in Embu.   

I am a huge Sci Fi movie fan and after watching so many alien movies, I decided to apply some of the lessons learnt, well minus the total annihilation of the populus. So like an alien, first I had to blend in...this was easy, aided by the fact that so many Kikuyus irk a living in this town and the language is just like my mother toungue say for some difference in a few syllables here and there and the slightly high pitched pronunciation of  words, otherwise I could understand what was said and I could reply without a lot of meaning being lost in the wording. Furthermore, there were three national languages to fall back on [English, Kiswahili and Sheng].

Anyway, the second thing was to locate an aboard, a place to lay my bones. A place I could live among them and report to Alien command of my experiences...LOL...I digress a little, too much alien movies I suppose. Ignoring the Alien reference and continuing with the story...To find a place to stay in this town is no walk in the park. I kid you not. Call me proud, say am that too influenced by the Nairobi City life but some of the rooms I would not fathom inviting my own mother for a visit; they were dump, showed signs of vermin infestation and let me not tell you about the facilities, this is a happy blog and not a horror one but on the flipside, they were cheap. Being an Arsenal fan, am a patient man, I continued with the search and before long I had found it, not what i really wanted but eeh!..it was a four walls and a roof either way, so I decided to approach the landlord. I do not know if I had SUCKER tattooed on my forehead or something because this idiot (landlord) blartted out well strewn lies that  if he was the devil tempting Christ, dare I say He would have taken the devil on his offer.

He promised to paint the house, clean it, make the necessary repairs just to make the aboard a palace for this alien. So I waited for him to do that. You know, sometimes patience does not pay because no sooner had I turned  my back, than he decided to give it to a woman with two kids. I should see the logic in that somewhere, or may be the morality, right? but frankly I do not care, he double crossed me for a nympho with offspring. I felt insulted to say the least.

Either way, I took it like a man and as the old adage goes "Aluta Continua", I continued with my search. Luckily It did not take long and I finally found one. A quaint but it is my little palace. Am now satisfied, content and feeling like shouting "IN YOUR FACE!" to that bloody idiotic landlord. 

Enough with the victory party, let's continue with the story. Every alien movie watching buff will tell you that after finding accommodation, the next step, try the transport system.You must know how to get around, among them. Now, If you are a daily commuter or have used a Matatu, you might have come across a sticker on the wall "Watu wanne wanne kama Orbit/PK". In my view that sticker is meant to poke fun at the stringent Michuki rules, you know as a very lame satirical joke, right?...WRONG! in Embu, that sticker does not poke fun, it dictates the rules. It is like matatus here never heard of Michuki or they are stuck in a time warp and cannot get out, or traffic cops do not exist here or something. But the sad reality is and as a Mzalendo I say this with with loads of shame and utter disappointment, the cops here encourage the vice by demanding a 'kifumba macho' if you know what I mean, from the matatus. As in, you would expect a sane person to actually do something about it but a tightly folded Kshs.100 note, tucked under the passenger side door's handle is enough for an officer to allow the perpetual gambling with innocent lives. But, the funny thing is, and this is surely funny, you will get a laugh from this...the number of accidents on the roads ain't as much as you would expect. Hell, for the time I have been here, I ain't heard or been a witness to one.

Enough of that, let us continue with the story..., so I hop into a matatu thinking that am going to travel in comfort only to hear the conductor order "Wee, Boss, shika hii saucer uweke hapo katikati!" handing me this wooden plank to rest between two seats. Only then did this huge woman step in and sit on the saucer. My first thought was, how the hell does that wooden plank not break?, the woman is huge. Anyway, that is not the point, the point is due to her size she not only occupied the saucer per say but half my seat.

You know, the ironical thing about that situation was in that very same matatu, there was a sticker claiming "Hatusemi wewe ni mnono, lakini ukikalia viti mbili lipia". I was of the opinion that since she occupied her saucer and half my seat, she should foot half my fare but a second glance at her, I chose not to publicly declare my opinion, not because I was scared of her but because I love myself too much to want to feel any pain and am a lover not a fighter. And so, the journey commenced only for, the matatu  to increase its contents. I swear we were about 25 halfway through the journey. Well, actually, 28 considering the huge woman was 3 times my size...LOL.  That's when I decided to throw a Hail Mary towards heaven asking the Creator to prepare a fully furnished condo, with a heated pool and jacuzzi  once I stepped into Heaven. Oh, and servants, I asked for angel servants too.

It seems God did not get my prayer, may be He was busy or it was not my time yet because I eventually alighted at my destination, safe and sound, albeit a few sizes smaller from all the squeezing I got in that matatu.

My month here might have been filled with surprises, disappointments and near death experiences but there has been patches of good. In fact, those patches have made me kind of fall in love with these laid back members of the Mt. Kenya Mafia. That's jumping the gun too much, I guess but lets wait and see, I still got a lot of adventures waiting for me in this town.............

STAY TUNED, FOR ANOTHER EPISODE OF............
EMBU: My CITY, My TOWN! Chroncles of my life in Embu so far.....

WHY ALWAYS ME???

I bet that by reading this title your mind inadvertently thought of Mario Balotelli. Well, Mario did inspire this title but am talking of someone much more sinister, SATAN.
 

 

When each one of us reaches that Sunday School going age, we are taught of an attempted coup d'etat in Heaven. Apparently there is this archangel of God who has the perception that God is not running the government of Heaven in the right manner. So this archangel gathers some of his cronies and  they stage a coup d'etat that fails miserably, I mean he really did not have a chance in Hell. Personally, I do not understand how he thought he could go against God and win. Guess that's just but the extent of the devil's audacity. Eventually he is cast down to hell where he becomes Satan or indeed the Devil. I know most of you do not know this but before he was cast down he was known as Lucifer (Light Bearer) and was God's brightest angel. Guess that  explains why he was very audacious in his coup d'etat.

Anyway, we are taught to hate and despise him with all fibers of our being, thus we grow up knowing that he is the epitome of evil. Now some of us tend to take this very very very very very seriously and begin to blame every little thing that does not go their way on the devil.

Most of you will be surprised to know that I disagree. I am of the perception that people tend to blame the devil too much and thus the title of this blog. Am here to show how people are heartless blaming him for everything that is blatantly not his fault but their own. I think that people are afraid to take responsibility for their actions. Using Satan as a scape goat is very easy, I mean what better scape goat is there than him. He will not come to complain to you, you will not be put under pressure to explain how he did it and most of all people tend not to ask questions when you cite the devil. I usually imagine him going to complain to God how people keep blaming him. It is heartless. How would you feel if everyone blamed you every time?

Come on, explain to me how being broke becomes Satan's fault. Satan did not make you broke, you did and Satan does not keep you broke,  you do. The devil will not get up and go hustle for you so that you will get money. You have to get up yourself. Or when you drink and drive and get into an accident; Satan did not put money in your pocket, nor did he call on the waiter and order drinks, or turn the ignition key and definitely he did not ignore all the campaigns against drink driving. And most of all there is no excuse for a cheating spouse, so keep Satan out of it.

So, do not get me wrong, am not a Devil worshiper or one of his demons or indeed possessed by him, in fact I read the Bible and pray to God; The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit and am not trying to absolve him of blame(well.....actually I am). People need to take responsibility for all their actions. The devil is an opportunist, he will tend to take advantage of a situation, so if you give him that opportunity to influence you he is not at fault, you are because you gave him the opening. Leave him out of your problems, people!!

DO NOT BE HEARTLESS,PLEASE MIND SATAN'S FEELINGS!!!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

THE BEGINNING!!!!

When God created Man He saw it fit that each one of us is born with Love and Optimism in our hearts. Optimism intended to see the good side of this world. God Himself is a perpetual optimist for it takes a gabazillion load of optimism to send your only son to come and die for a people I find really do not deserve that much love; a lost people (am not exempt,by the way).
Why then did I stray away from God's divine optimism, what happened to change me into a pessimist?
Well for all you inquisitive readers it all started when I was wee boy. During those formative years, the years when hide and seek was a lot of fun, days gone by when we used 'picky picky ponkey' to choose the one to go first. When being the best hider garnered you incomprehensible fame throughout the estate and school.  Guys would refuse to include you in their game, since the outcome was more than set in stone and thus  making the game lose its utamu(flavor). Back then, days were governed by 'FADS'. For you the playstation generation or indeed those of you who have just experienced one President yaani Baba Jimmy or Ubako, a Fad according to the dictionary is an intense and widely shared enthusiasm for something, especially one that is short-lived; a craze.Well back then, we said 'in season' i.e that awesome thing that would occupy most of our time during the weekends and holidays. It could be 'vehicles' made from wires, slings (FEYAA), football or cattie.
Like it did every year, a bicycle fad rode on by and everyone was bicycle crazy, morning, noon and night we would be riding round the block. I know you wondering where this is going, well here it is...I was not lucky to own a bicycle and thus when the bicycle fad decided to roll on by, I would beg my mother for one.

Me: mother can I get a bicycle?

Mother: Do I look like I mint money in the backyard?

I never got that bike. But life goes on,  granted,owning a bicycle did not deter me from having loads of fun but the pessimism bug had bit me, the seed had been planted. Well, there were many other incidences but this one really did stand out for me.
So, I grew up and went to high school where I was thrust into the world of GIRLS. Being in a boys boarding high school the pressure was intense. If you did not woo at least one lady in the presence of your peers or hear your name called out to receive a letter sent to you by one lady, you would be touted a 'Breezer' a moniker that would last for such a long time, you would become the SI unit. The level with which every other person would gauge their success when it comes to wooing these descendants of Eve. So whats the point of all this, you may ask? I like every other sane Kenyan man knows that these beautiful ladies are not cheap. They are bloody expensive, literally...you have to bleed to make them happy. So I would devise ways in which to ask for money from my mother that is devise a well crafted lie to get money to take a lady out or buy her something that would etch my name in her heart.

Me: mother, the school asked us to buy a certain book that costs Kshs.2000, lest we will be sent home.

Mother: I too want that Kshs.2000, do you have it?

From this you might think that my mother is a monster. That is very far from the truth, my sweet mother is a loving and caring woman whom I love to death. But my mother comes from that region in Kenyan where they breed Iron Ladies, Nyeri County, so you got to understand where this tough love came from. I understand that her tough love was to teach me that life is a bitch and am proud of her for that but it did turn me into a pessimist.You may think that am blaming my mother for turning me into a pessimist, am not I just using her as an example because she has influenced my life in the grandest of ways.
When I was in class 2, the class teacher asked me to bring her two canes when I came to school the following day. I was very happy and proud of my wee self knowing that of the 40 pupils in class she had chosen me to do this noblest of tasks. My friends tried to advise me not to do it as I would be the first to test them, but my pride told me they were jealous. So I did bring the canes to her the following day, presenting them to her as a Knight would present the head of a slain enemy King to his King.Lest did I know that my so called 'jealous' friends would be right. I do not understand by what twisted fate she would decide to test the canes on her Knight. She asked me to face the blackboard and she meted out the punishment. That by far was the most painful caning I have ever experienced  because not only was the pain physical but my heart was broken, why after doing this noble task would she cane me first. There was also the embarrassment and humiliation that accompanied ignoring my friends' advice and terming them as jealous. That incident did perpetuate my pessimism as I did not expect to be the first to taste the canes sting.  
Please do not misunderstand me, I do not sit around cursing at the world at how things are bad. No, I embrace the negativity because, frankly, I love myself too much. I do not like the feeling of disappointment so I prefer to expect the worst out of a situation so that when the good or positive happens am able to appreciate it more. Some of you might think this is stupid but, am a pessimist I kinda expect that.