Some years ago before I hit the third floor, I used to be a violent young man, who would let a fault go unpunished, and an avid imbiber of smoky tasting hard drink, I patronised a bar in a neighbouring County, the county I was posted in was wanting on the quality of watering hole and the other hole (the one men usually vigorously penetrate, with more stamina than they used to make an entrance into this world) The club I chose had rhumba and the ambiance hit the right notes. I imbibed as usual 2 measures of whiskey to one measure of H2O. Sitting in the non-smoking zone, where there were other patrons, a group of Six men and 4 women, I ignored them as usual, and started drinking, an hour later one of the group member light a cigarette, I politely asked him to observe the written sign, I was given the middle finger for my efforts, the waiter tried and he was given some words that I won’t bother repeating. Made me shift to the furthest corner avoiding a conflict where I was the obvious loser, and the guy in question started hurling ingnominious language to no one in particular but we were all aware of the target, I ignored it but was boiling under, a quick cost benefit analysis of the situation made me observe my peace. The manager came and decorum was reinstated, after the group were threatened with eviction from the place, finishing my half of VAT 69, and the litre of water I had bought in hostile silence, as usual the call of nature came, and had to go to the gents and just my luck the loud mouthed lout came as I was shaking it after use at the urinal, that had only two occupants me and him. Before his big eyes registered suprise I hit his throat with the space between my thumb and index fingers, not hard enough to interfere with his breathing but just enough to mute any screams that could have risen. His shock was pleasing to note, ‘Rusha mdomo sasa’, he was momentarily puzzled and then his eyes widened further, two quick hits to the kidney and one well placed right to his solar plexus, drove him to the knees retching, I crowned it all with a kick to the nuts, he passed out, I quickly left the place I wouldn’t want to receive a beating from his gang and took the first taxi at the gate.
With age I no longer drink in bars where under 30’s frequents these guys have pent up energy and tetosterone for unnecessary conflict, act your age and drink with people who have a little respect to everyone.
Thirties are good.
We mellow down and avoid unnecessary drama.
My local is so quiet and apart from the soft music ,the only noise is the cicadas chirping their mating songs.
Acha ningoje Kama hi hekaya ishawahi somwa kwingine
Utangoja Sana Weri
Amen to that, it’s an age where understanding of the self makes you mellow.
I would love to mellow inside your juicy mouth
one mistake…you hit a man who was down in the nuts…
:D:D @pseudonym mpatie kinyamo amekuomba sana
:D:D
Hi jina weri ni ya wapi, I think only you use it in these streets
Couldn’t resist it, aliniambia I can do nothing to him, well I sterilised him and alijikojolea.
Equivalent of Mundu in my areas.
Hehe
junkie gay mutheu sio your agemate,mbwa wewe
Aiiii .
Sigwes. Hii bidii yake Leo imenishangaza. 
Mimi after high school i had that mentality ya an eye for eye until a pals bro was stubbed to death over some petty issue in a bar brawl… fornunately or unfornately my pal and i were the first people who knew him to arrive at the scene of crime only to find him gasping for air na mara ziko nje .kutoka io siku i swore to never engage in any form of fights or conflicts.
lakini wacha nikuambie mami,what the eye doesn’t see,the heart doesn’t grieve about,hata kichwa tu
Pole Sana Bro, but as Kenny Rogers sang, sometimes a man has to fight to be a man. So aptly titled ‘Coward of the county’.
Tutakutafutia mutu
Omba kuma pole pole
Blad fuckin meffi
Funny how you always come out on top ain’t it?