Just for laughs

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Hunter Xp

Village Elder
#1
#ctrl+c
Over the weekend, I went to do some little
shopping to push me through the week, you know
normally I don’t do monthly shopping like most
do. I am one of those people who think the world
might end any day, and there is no need to leave
anything here only to benefit satan..asha. So
while at the supermarket, I left my bag at the
luggage place and since it was a weekend, it was
kinda crowded so I just gave him my bag but he
didn’t give me that ka-card they give to show
where he placed the bag. So I entered the super.
After the shopping, I went to pick my bag and the
guy there just asked me ‘ni hii?’.of which I picked
it and left. On arriving at my house, I realized that
the bag wasn’t mine. It had some dresses and
two pairs of shoes. I went back to the
supermarket, and told the guy at the luggage’s
that I had picked the wrong bag. He told me that
infact the owner of the bag had left her phone
number, and that I should call her to arrange on
how she would pick her bag. I called the number
and what I heard was a sweet voice, a voice that
can remove 3 nyokas kwa pango. I gathered all
courage and talked in fluent flawless English,
inserting bits of Jeff Koinange like ‘woow’, ‘aha’,
‘ooh my’…and we agreed that since she had
already left for town, we would arrange on how
she would pick her bag from me the following
day. I saved the number and logged on to
whatsapp. I checked her prof pic and I had to sit
for some minutes analyzing everything from her
hair, forehead, nose and shape of her lips. She
was marvelous, a person created with no hurry
and under close supervision. I went back to the
house and logged on to whatsapp again. I looked
at her again and I remembered one of the rules in
the Da-Fisi code, which says that “you should
never fear rejection, a jogoo has a red beard, a
tiny D, and ‘climbs’ on only one style, but he still
climbs many hens.” So I texted her on whatsapp
like “hello, am sorry for the mix up on the bags.
Hope I didn’t inconvenience you.” To my surprise,
she replied immediately saying how she
appreciated me returning the bag..bla bla bla. The
conversation picked from there. Being a man of
many stories of giants, we chatted about all
things including waiguru, elnino, muthama and dj
crème. She said she would come for her bag from
my house the following day afternoon, that is
sunday. I promised to cook her lunch. She was so
excited and I was too. I cancelled all my plans for
Sunday, including watching all EPL matches. I did
not even place any bet on sportpesa, as I was
busy scrubbing all the corners of the house, and
even changed the arrangement of the house.
You’d think pope was passing by my house. I
called those niggas who pass by randomly and
told them to keep off in the afternoon, as I was
expecting a very important guest. Owing to the
current prolonged dry spell, I also started
rehearsing lines on how to borrow things, as I
have even forgotten. I even rehearsed and
choreographed how one thing would maybe lead
to the other, and kababa would land somewhere.
At around 11, she called, and the sweet mellow
voice told me she would be there at 2pm. I went
and bought some meat from my local busheri,
and told the butcher to cut it from the softest
part, normally near the sudus/thuthas of a cow. I
even checked for one of those recipes Shoba
posts, and prepared a very good meal, something
I have never prepared before. At around 2pm, she
called again to say that she was almost. I had a
last minute look in the house to ensure everything
was in order. There was one mende that appeared
near the table, and the manner in which I killed it,
am sure its fellow mendes knew it was not
business as usual, and they had to keep low.
Then she called to say she was at the gate. I
walked to the gate the way Ruto walks to receive
Uhuru when he is returning from Mayuu. One
nigga who is a neighbor kept a close eye at my
door to make sure he would catch the sight of
this beauty i had been singing all day. I opened
the gate and just saw some kids playing outside
and a woman saying hi to them. I called the
number and saw the woman reach for her phone,
and then she came towards me saying,,ooh you
are Benson right?..the voice was what I had
heard on the phone, but on looking at her, she
was like fote fae (45), the size of two buffalos,
and nothing close to what was on the pic. I said
yes I am Benson. I really wanted the earth to
open up and swallow me alive, or jehova
wanyonyi to come with a chariot and take me like
Enoch or Elijah, but here I was. I was sure it was
her because of the voice, but what about the
beauty on the pic??.That was a question I still
don’t have an answer. So we went to the house,
and just then I saw a text from my nigga…”Ok
dude, kwani it’s her mom who came?” I texted
back and told him “long story bruh..please come
pick me time ya game.” So she sat and we had
lunch, as I pretended to be excited that she
passed by. After lunch, we had a little chat but I
indicated that I was to catch up with some niggas
for a game. I was feeling deceived but had only
me to blame for what we call “jumping before the
drum beat”. Just then my nigga showed up and I
could see him smiling from the corners of his
mouth. But he saved me as he insisted that we
should go before the match started. I gave her
the bag and we all went out.
Now I cant go to where my niggas are coz they
cant stop laughing…Now ladies please, am
appealing on behalf of all men, ndamuthaitha,
don’t be putting pictures of sijui your younger
sisters or sijui nieces as your prof pics. Its very
unfair to us. And you satan, even if we hate each
other and don’t agree on anything, stop taking
this dry spell thing too far. Let a nigga prosper for
once, you know very well am not into Petroleum
njeri.
 
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