Because I’m sipping fobe here alone, let me give you a story of giant mniweke company. You know, this Nyairofi has shown me a lot of things.
As I have told you before, I’m a retired and reformed fisist theorist, who during his heyday developed many fisist theories that inspired the boyshaods during the fisist revolution. The revolution died when betting, fobe and other challenges derailed the boyshaod.
But nowadays due to my advanced age and diminishing energy levels, I have since retired and only watch from afar. After all, I still want to see heaven with both eyes; and if there is no heaven and there is reincarnation instead, atleast nirudi nikiwa kitu mzuri ivi kama paka ya duka…kazi ikuwe ni starehe huko kwa shelves, ama pet dog ya mzungu ivi, you know. If the reincarnation theory is true, many fuk boys will be punished by coming back as zile mbwa za mtaa., kazi itakuwa kukwama ndani huko kwa barabara za mtaa. They will never climb in peace. Faithful men will come back as the sole bull in the village, where A.I services are not available, and cows on heat will be brought to them for climbing without any hustles. People of the Vaseline battalion will come back as a weak jogoo in the midst of other stronger jogoos…they will never climb a hen in peace. Wale slay queens wameishi kukunywa guarana zetu hii Nyairofi bila huruma alafu wanapotea watarudi kama fuda…kazi itakuwa kufanyishwa kazi ngumu alafu wanapokea kigongi ya ajab. Wale nao wananyonya mali ya umma watarudi wakiwa vinyonyi kama kupe ivi na chawa…wanafaa waanze kunusa doom mapema wazoee. Nothing will go unpunished people…Repent I tell you. Anyway, haisuru.
So since I reformed, I have been keeping a low profile nikizingatia utaratibu. They say ‘simba mwenda pole hajikwai, na akijikwaa huangukia nyama.’ That’s my policy nowadays.
So the other day nilijikwaa hivi tu kimchezo na nikawa naenda kuangukia ‘nyama’ huko Githurai. In this cold season, ukipatana na ‘nyama’ usikuwe na mbio miingi, afana. Unachemsha kwanza, ikisoften kidogo unafry, unageuza geuza small small, ikikauka sana unaongeza tumaji hivi, maji ikizidi unaongeza moto,…na ukitoka hapo utakuwa umeshiba kama Chacha. Take your time. So while still in her house after the session, it started raining. I remembered my shoes were outside the door and I went to bring them in ili zisinyeshewe. Hapo ndio nilikumbuka niko Githurai coz sikuzipata hapo nje.
In the midst of my protests, the persons told me that most likely, ziko already Gikomba juu ya stall. She tried consoling me with another round, but the thoughts of how I would get home made kababa refuse to board completely!! At that moment, I didn’t have enough money to buy another pair, and I started figuring out how I would go home in slippers na hiyo matope. That is when she told me not to worry, and that she would sort me out. When I asked how, she smiled and hushed me with her finger. When a woman does that, just know she knows what she is saying. Shortly after, kababa agreed to board and was deported deep into the lands of canaan again.
To cut the long story short, mimi nilirudi home na kiatu ingine. Sasa sijui kama ni ya sponsor, boyfriend, ex, ama pia yeye ni mwizi wa viatu. Hiyo maswali sikuuliza na sikutaka kujua. Hii Nyairofi ile kitu hutushikilia tu ni maombi ya wazazi huko nyumbani.
:D:D
Hehehehe. Hilarious
Hiyo mbwa za mitaa dio imenimaliza,it is true they don’t enjoy that thing,na hiyo mizogolo yenye slayqueens watapewa after being fundas.
Ulimwambia Mama watoto ulifanya trade in ya njumu ama wale street pastors wa kuombea doo zinakuwa mob waliombea akala zako zikawa saunya kivipi?
You were climbing a seasoned Malaya wewe,those extra pairs of shoes you were given belongs to another shafter…
I only hope and believe condom ilikua mpangoni!!!
hekaya iko very hillarious
Jua ulipewa kiatu ya ninja ingine!!
Pole kaka
Hapo alifanya barter trade ni kuma ndiyo ilifanya uone umeibiwa, transaction kwake iko sawa.
Hahaa…Now its been long since i had a genuine prolonged laughter until this. Boss you can write!
:D:D octegenerian(sic) chronicles
Boss kuguru iliuza viatu kitambo before ata uingize kichwa
Ribs zinauma.
Wanja Kavengi
The rate of crime in my plot is always floating at an all-time high (someone once stole the communal tap), with the theft of pegs, dusters, and brooms the most reported crimes. To file a report or complaint in my plot, you don’t even need to talk to the caretaker. You only need to restrain your fury until evening when almost all your neighbours are present. Then, when it’s queitish, perhaps because most of them are eating, walk to the center of the veranda and face the general direction of the house of the neighbour you hate the most.
Without warning, and in a voice loud enough for most, if not all, to hear, start to recount how someone, or people, has/have been stealing your brooms but you’ve always let it slide. Tell them about the day someone even had the nerve to secretly return a broom they stole, after it had become worn out and useless, and you let it slide. Loudly observe how these anonymous thieves have been wrongly thinking that your silence means you’re an idiot. Changing your tone from ‘emotional’ to ‘empowered’, state that you are now tired and declare that this time you will not take it lying down, and proceed to loudly and boldly hurl obscene insults at the unknown culprit(s). With the bottled-up anger that has built up over your stay in the plot stewing inside you, scream threats in your most intimidating tone and pace back and forth while you swear that you know who took your broom, and promise to show them who you are. Continue showing off your talent for insults and reiterate your threats for a minute or two more then finish off your tirade without a solid conclusion and go back to your house.
After a few minutes of silence in the plot, get out of your house to pick your clothes from the clotheslines while loudly talking smack about the thug(s). Take unnecessarily long to unhang the clothes because you’ll be explaining to whomever cares to listen how you are going to deal with the broom stealers, and add that a broom issue is not a petty issue and you know what you’re talking about. Then take unnecessarily long to walk back to your house while you rhetorically ask what is wrong with some people, and why can’t someone just buy their own fucking broom. Even after closing your door, make sure that your neighbours can faintly hear you complain about that broom to your family members.
Buy another broom the following day then wait until evening when most of the neighbours are present, and it’s queitish, and start sweeping nothing at your doorstep. While dramatically dragging the broom on the floor in loud, exaggerated sweeps, sarcastically announce that you’ve bought a new broom so that the thief, or thieves, can steal again.
And, of course, while you’re standing up for yourself at the veranda, the neighbours are listening to you, judging you, and discussing the theft at the same time.
“Aw, for fuck’s sake.”
“Is that Wanja?“
“That broom wasn’t even hers.”
“That must be the guy in number 12. He looks like a thief.”
“Ours was stolen too and I know who it is.”
“I wish someone tells her to shut up.”
“Why can’t she just move out?”
“Can she really go to a witchdoctor because of a fucking broom?”
“Move aside. I want to peep too.”