Wadau,
Many of you niggas have been in similar situations, but sometimes you just have to pinch yourself to believe that it’s true.
So, there’s this one time in 2015 when I moved back to Kenya. I had just gotten a divorce earlier that year, so I was on the rebound and as you can imagine, feeling quite low. It was a Saturday, and I had been in the house for a whole week. Every day, I sat alone in my four bedroomed house staring at the walls. At night I couldn’t sleep, I tossed and turned.
I was reminded of the song “my minds playing tricks on me” by the Geto Boyz:
"I’m paranoid, sleeping with my finger on the trigger
Always stressin’ I ain’t living right
Every time my eyes close
I start sweating…
I make big money
I drive big cars
Everybody know me
I’m like a movie star
But late at night something ain’t right
Day by day it’s more impossible to cope
God damn homey
My mind is playing tricks on me
I decided, fcuk it, this wasn’t healthy. It was a Sato so I decided to get out of the house and go for a long drive to at least stop the thoughts that were running through my mind. So anyhow, I got into my moti and started driving with no specific destination in mind.
Banana…Ruaka…Parklands…Westlands…hapo Kilimani…kidogo like this, I was in my old hood in Dago. I met up with a few of my old time buddies and we chopped it up hapo Tankard pub, for those who know the area well. It was great being there cuz I used to live in that hood when I was struggling and I have fond memories of the place and had many friends as well. Some have been lucky and moved on up, many were not as lucky and got stuck in the struggle. But it’s all good, we’re one au sio? I was feeling generous that day, so I was throwing pints left, right and centre. The boys and their mamas were really enjoying. Lagers, mzingas, nyama…whatever they wanted they got it. It was like Christmas and their birthdays all rolled into one.
Now for those of you who may know Tankard it’s actually nothing to write home about. The décor in the club is the standard makuti, nyama area, big screen for football sort of place. There was a match between my team Arsenal and Leicester but it was impossible to follow the match because of the very loud music. By around 9 pm, the action had started with the arrival of a DJ who rogad us with old skool (and loud) tunes. The pub was filled with sweaty, gleaming revellers, shrouded in a mist of smoke, dancing the night away. I hated to admit it, but I had probably grown some “pethos” working in London and mingling with the perfumed aristocrats in Surrey. I wasn’t feeling Tankard at all.
I suggested to my pals that we need to go somewhere else, and they readily accepted since I was behaving like father Christmas that night. At the parking, I saw one hot chick waiting hapo maybe for a cab. “Hi there” I greeted her. “Please may I offer you a lift? It’s not good for you to be out here alone” “No thanks, she said, I’m waiting for a cab” “Where are you going?” I asked her. “I’m going to meet my boyfriend in Havana, Westlands” she said. I was persistent, I guess the alcohol gave me courage, and also her cab had not arrived, so she eventually agreed to the offer. I guess she also saw I was with a large group so she probably felt safe. One of my pals from Dago had a car as well so I carried two couples in the back seat of my Nissan Murano-but do I say. I surveyed the chick and I couldn’t but help to think of Blondies’ “Maria”,
“She looks smooth as silk, cool as air
She doesn’t know your name,
but your heart beats like a subway train
Don’t you wanna take her,
Don’t you wanna take her home?”
Yaani, the chick was fwain…rangi ya pesa, long supple legs, tight dress which accentuated her figure…Hmmmm… naughty thoughts just flashed my mind, man. Anyway, ndiye huyu hapa…
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“I’m Gabz yule mmoja” I introduced myself. “I’m Kyonda” she said. Nice name. Behind us, the two couples were shamelessly making out in my car, so I ignored them. As we were driving, I suggested that to Kyonda that we drop off the couples and then I would drop her…She agreed.
Baaas! I thought to myself, kameingia mtego wa panya.
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This was the equivalent of “wacha niingize tuu kichwa”, hehehe. Ladies…please don’t fall for this trick if you know what’s good for you.
Sasa, the guys were going to a place called Tamasha. For those who don’t know the place , it’s an unassuming club in Hurlingham, off Argwings Kodhek Road, down a winding dusty road, and adjacent to Buffet Park. The décor showed that is clearly meant for the more mature reveler and from the parking lot, it was evident that is a haunt of the high-flying yuppie class. By this time, Kyonda’s boyfriend was calling her and I overheard her lie to him she’s was still in Dago waiting for a cab and she would be running late.
Teren teren…hapo is when I knew the sh*t had hit the fan for that mofo. That night was simply not his night. Man, as Chris Brown sang, “these hoes ain’t loyal”
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I knew that was my cue to move in like a shark. I told her that we can have one drink as I sort out a few issues with my boys and we would bounce. She tried resisting but just like Rt. Hon. Agwambo Tinga, dame aliingia box and agreed to “just one drink” LOL.
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Sasa hapo Tamasha si the party went on. As wadau are aware, I’m a very generous bloke. Drinks were flowing like water. Nyama, ugali, kachumbari, mukimu, eish!!! Ata the waitresses hawakuwachwa nyuma. Akionyesha meno kidogo…ka tip, pap!! Ma bouncer wote akina Sylvester…for those who knew Tamasha those days, niliwatibu kweli kweli. DJ naye, jamaa alikuwa anacheza my personal playlist. Yaani it was kama “Gabz nite.” 
I was treated like a king, wacha tuu. People thought it was someone’s birthday or something…courtesy of Gabz yule mmoja. It’s only money after all, no big deal. Everybody was having a good time. As the youngsters say, it was lit!
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By this time, the boyfriend was still calling, sio ma text. Kyonda analenga simu. Wacha the chick switched off her phone…Nikajua mambo bad!
To be continued…