As i have told you before, several years ago I used to live in the Eastest part of Nyairofi, where problems and life challenges first gather every morning before spreading to other parts of the city. Back then, life had beaten me m-stick completely, and i literally used to live hand to nose to mouth. If it smelled good, it could be eaten. At that time, i used to do jobs of all collars, from white collar, blue and even black collar. I used to have a banner in my house written wìra nì wìra (work is work). One day I was called for an interview somewhere in Westlands, and told to be there by 7.30am. Because i knew someone who knew someone who knew the manager there, i had been told to go very early so that I could be given some leakage of what to expect in the interview. So because of the traffic jam, i had to leave home very early, around 5am. So on that day, I woke up and got myself ready. I took my documents and left the house at around 5am. As I left the house, satan also left his baze to start his work. A few metres from the house, there was a ki-street light. Now I don’t know what we used to call it in physics, but there is a way that ki-light produces two shadows of you, unaona kuna shadow moja refu na ingine fupi…i think we used to call it Bernoulli effect or pythogras-one of the two. So i saw two shadows of me and thought it was someone following me or something. I almost ran then realized it was the pythogras. Little did i know that it was satan rehearsing for what he was do to me next. Just after that ki-light, i heard some steps behind me, but by the time i turned to look, i was already airborne, with a hand of steel around my neck and my legs hanging in the air. Before i realized what was happening, there were like 5 hands going through all my pockets. Whenever i tried to resist, the hand of steel would tighten the grip. I stopped resisting when i felt that if he grips harder, i will toilet on myself there and there. When they released me, i fell to the ground and lay still looking up, saying to myself, fu*k pythogras. Now anyone who has ever been robbed in the early hours of the morning, knows that it is better to be robbed at night than in the morning. This is because the ones robbing you in the morning could have tried to rob the whole night unsuccessfully, and are now frustrated…so they have to rob you clean. I realized that when, even after releasing me, they were still there asking; ‘wewe ni mwanaume aina gani unatembea na mia mbili kwa mfuko’, as they gave me some soft kicks on the stomach. That is when i had a good look and realized it was a group of 4 very young boys, like 15/16. Still lying on the ground, I told them that i was just a common hasora going for an interview, and that the 200 was fare. The bigger one asked, ‘na hiyo kabambe yake inawaka?’.The one with my kabambe responded by lighting the torch to acknowledge that at least there was something to salvage from this miserable hasora. Those ghetto thieves are very weird. They were still not done with me. One said, ‘maybe kimeficha doh kwa ile mfuko pienga ya boxer’…and just like that, one boy inserted his hand in my boxers to feel for any pockets…he only felt balls. He removed my shoes instead and they said 'twendeni. All this happened within a span of about 3 mins, but i stayed on the ground for another 5mins trying to gather strength and get some bearing of where exactly I was. When I finally stood up, I looked like a person who had taken a soil bath. I started walking back to the house, thinking of whether i would still make it to the interview. That meant i would have to call people at that time of the morning, to lend me fare…yea right, but call them with what? Again, what would i wear? Shoes gone, new shirt-soiled… After thinking for some minutes, i fell asleep and woke up at 11am. Up to date, that person who was trying to organize for me the job has never talked to me again. Even when i told him happy new year this year, he still blue ticked me. But what pained me more on that day is that i was mugged by 15 year old ipiis, and even one touched my balls. May they go to hell. From that day, I get what in Greek we call guthithimùkwo when i see that two shadows thing. Infact when i see that at night when high, naendanga kama ndege mpaka kwa nyumba. This Nyairofi is of many.
paragraph tafadhali
:D:D Mukuru Kwa njenga manenos…
:D:D:D
What doesn’t kill u…
:D:D:D:D Hekaya iko sawa
Hii ni yako mwalimu;
[SIZE=5]As i have told you before, several years ago I used to live in the Eastest part of Nyairofi, where problems and life challenges first gather every morning before spreading to other parts of the city. Back then, life had beaten me m-stick completely, and i literally used to live hand to nose to mouth. If it smelled good, it could be eaten. At that time, i used to do jobs of all collars, from white collar, blue and even black collar. I used to have a banner in my house written wìra nì wìra (work is work). One day I was called for an interview somewhere in Westlands, and told to be there by 7.30am. Because i knew someone who knew someone who knew the manager there, i had been told to go very early so that I could be given some leakage of what to expect in the interview. So because of the traffic jam, i had to leave home very early, around 5am.
So on that day, I woke up and got myself ready. I took my documents and left the house at around 5am. As I left the house, satan also left his baze to start his work. A few metres from the house, there was a ki-street light. Now I don’t know what we used to call it in physics, but there is a way that ki-light produces two shadows of you, unaona kuna shadow moja refu na ingine fupi…i think we used to call it Bernoulli effect or pythogras-one of the two. So i saw two shadows of me and thought it was someone following me or something. I almost ran then realized it was the pythogras. Little did i know that it was satan rehearsing for what he was do to me next. Just after that ki-light, i heard some steps behind me, but by the time i turned to look, i was already airborne, with a hand of steel around my neck and my legs hanging in the air.
[/SIZE]
[SIZE=5]Before i realized what was happening, there were like 5 hands going through all my pockets. Whenever i tried to resist, the hand of steel would tighten the grip. I stopped resisting when i felt that if he grips harder, i will toilet on myself there and there. When they released me, i fell to the ground and lay still looking up, saying to myself, fu*k pythogras. Now anyone who has ever been robbed in the early hours of the morning, knows that it is better to be robbed at night than in the morning. This is because the ones robbing you in the morning could have tried to rob the whole night unsuccessfully, and are now frustrated…so they have to rob you clean. I realized that when, even after releasing me, they were still there asking; ‘wewe ni mwanaume aina gani unatembea na mia mbili kwa mfuko’, as they gave me some soft kicks on the stomach. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=5]That is when i had a good look and realized it was a group of 4 very young boys, like 15/16. Still lying on the ground, I told them that i was just a common hasora going for an interview, and that the 200 was fare. The bigger one asked, ‘na hiyo kabambe yake inawaka?’.The one with my kabambe responded by lighting the torch to acknowledge that at least there was something to salvage from this miserable hasora. Those ghetto thieves are very weird. They were still not done with me. One said, ‘maybe kimeficha doh kwa ile mfuko pienga ya boxer’…and just like that, one boy inserted his hand in my boxers to feel for any pockets…he only felt balls. He removed my shoes instead and they said 'twendeni.
All this happened within a span of about 3 mins, but i stayed on the ground for another 5mins trying to gather strength and get some bearing of where exactly I was. When I finally stood up, I looked like a person who had taken a soil bath. I started walking back to the house, thinking of whether i would still make it to the interview. That meant i would have to call people at that time of the morning, to lend me fare…yea right, but call them with what? Again, what would i wear? Shoes gone, new shirt-soiled… After thinking for some minutes, i fell asleep and woke up at 11am. Up to date, that person who was trying to organize for me the job has never talked to me again. Even when i told him happy new year this year, he still blue ticked me. But what pained me more on that day is that i was mugged by 15 year old ipiis, and even one touched my balls. May they go to hell. From that day, I get what in Greek we call guthithimùkwo when i see that two shadows thing. Infact when i see that at night when high, naendanga kama ndege mpaka kwa nyumba. This Nyairofi is of many.[/SIZE]
Safffi…alafu pole
iza bro… nairobi si mchezo, kuna time pia mimi nliokotwa nikitoka kucheki game ya man u n nlikuwa maji mbaya, nilibebwa simu na rwas ilikuwa kwa mfuko, m’fuckers even messed with my favourite D&G jeans wakaifanya skirt… luckily the extra money i had ilikuwa kwa mpesa…n that’s the reason nliweka dstv, hiyo ujinga siwezi taka kupitia tena
iza
Ole Weru and Wanjohi were legends, its shame they stopped writing
Manze kila thread hii wiki imekua ya kupigwa ngeta na vile hio experience ni mbaya.
They stopped?
What a shame… I also loved Wanja Kavengi.Funny as hell
Witnessed the exact same scenario very early in the morning apo Eastleigh. Difference dude akikatalia phone, got stabbed in the back with a rusted kitchen knife which only God knows where it has been. Mboys were from 12-17
kula like
They still write, hii hekaya ya Ole Weru ni ya jana tuu.
They take long nowadays.
No need. The flow is good in a Bukowski sort of way.
Unajua Charles bukowski what your favourite book of his?
They still write. Wanjohi has an active account pale mukuru. Wanja posts two or three articles in a month. Today I read some hot posts from her. When I first read pseudonym’s erotic hekaya in this village i thought ni wanja hata.
The last time wanjohi wrote was in 2016 june
Safi sana, iza btw hiyo ni mbaya.