We had a habit. Or was it a disease? Let’s just call it a habit for the sake of the writer. Cause it would really hurt my feelings to learn that what I took for problem-solving, was indeed a malady that was going to take a toll. (the WE in the story is an anaphorical pronoun for my cousin and I). We are in Thika town on a Friday afternoon. My cousin, was on a lunch break from his internship in Thika law courts and it happens I was running some errands in town. So we decide to hook up and devour some nyama choma at Pork City. GREAT! Just like that in 15 minutes we were done with a kilo of well barbecued beef and yet sucked two sodas of sprite. Well, let me not act oblivious because I know those 15 minutes must have raised eyebrows. I was surprised the same. It really got me thinking whether that was a kilo. But for those who have been to Thika, this kind of experiences are to be embraced because that’s the beauty of kiambu- if not its challenges. So since its Friday, and the feeling that the weekend is here, the habit calls and we respond. For thou shall be called, thou shall answer. So we hop into a matatu and hit the road to Dillon’s—a famous resort on Thika-Garissa road in Ngoliba. On the way, we criticize the day, study chicks who board and alight at different stages and affordably talk about politics. It is believed that real men dream, talk about women, politics, achieve their goals and drink(not only water or milk, but something that can challenge your balance). And with as those few remarks, we was a typical real men. The kind that you take your hats off in overwhelmingness. And every time I had that feeling, I always summoned the bartender to knock the cock off the bottle and drink up for that. So we land at the counter and pick our favourite positions. We always start our journey to the ‘higher-throne’ with my cousin guzzling 2 Tusker ciders, and I guzzling 4 Tusker malts. But this time round, we had to go for a petition and the verdict was a double order. Having sucked ‘life’ out of the bottles, we did a double shot of vodka each and decided to go home. After all, all bats fly to the cave before dawn. Were we not mammals too? So we get to the stage, things get blurry and I can’t really tell on which side of the stage we were all I remember is waving at a matatu and boarding. We must have passed out or got hexed. We were headed to Machakos but somehow we woke up in Thika. What other argument apart from witchcraft can you stipulate? I was perturbed such that my eyes were popping out and getting dry because I was letting too much air in.I had to let them blink. We alighted the matatu, and started walking around to pick up the compass. My hands were too shaky I couldn’t use the Google map. My cousin eyes were so lazy he couldn’t even look at himself. He must have forgotten he needed to see in order to get home. I had to tow him with my hands like some truck that fell off the road being craned. As we were headed to Kenyatta road (still towing the ‘truck’), two guys show up and ask a very dubious question, ‘’ have you ever been arrested before?’’(the ‘truck’ comes back to road). I must have had a problem with my ego answering a goon. They then claim they are policemen. I ask for a police ID and that’s where the fuse blows. We are handcuffed and taken behind bars. Only to be let go after handing them a 500 Kshs note.(I wish I had coins instead). I may thank them for helping my cousin sober up but the question would still need an answer, ‘’since when did asking for a police Id get rewarded with stainless steel handcuffs? Why be arrested for being in town in the first place? Or were we arrested because we was drunk and not driving? Let citizens drink in peace. That’s how a nation grows its economy.



  • Good guy,

Am a good guy,

At least thats what i believe,

Many a people don’t say it,

But in their eyes i can see it,

That warm smile of appreciation,

That’s what i get for being good,

Inquisitive looks..,

It’s theirs to figure out the greater good,

Am food to a lost soul,

Cause good is a sanctuary for the lost,

When life is a stormy sea and you need a beach by the coast,

Then good is the remedy at no cost,

Am a good guy.Yes, a good guy.

Forlorn are the times,

Quiet are the moments,

Can’t afford to socialize,

Too afraid to be misunderstood,

See…am a good guy,

I don want to dim your expectations,

To give you hopes that we can be friends,

While we clearly have nothing in common,

So i sit against the wall all alone,

And remind my self how good i am,

Take my phone & like your pics on social media,

Cause am a good guy,

And you will sleep happy your pic got a 1000 likes.

Am a good guy.Yes, a good guy.

WOEFUL IGNORANCE. The cause of poverty is not scarcity, It is fear and small thinking, I should Beg your pardon Alan Cohen, The cause of poverty is woeful ignorance, And maybe a pinch of fractured morals into a society’s broth, Those are the kind of words you speak in an interview right? Then drop the mic😂, Yours opinions are also welcome, And your jibes much the same, I checked out of my normal life sometime back, It was quite a break just to be precise, I did not know what i was trying to find out, Not even now, Not that i can’t state the hypothesis, Of the so called findings…, But i was just lost in what ‘ i was lost in’, So i take a walk, And launch this self to self talk, That’s the only time i listen to myself, – incase you did not know, At this time am not much of a critic, So i welcome all kind of thoughts, Ranging from the humble of all to the very brutal, But the dominant thoughts end up taking the toll, Like why an African child is treated as a specimen to represent poverty on international platforms, Why a Maasai is deemed barbaric for his unwavering cultural beliefs, Why forgive must be seconded by forget, Why we call names like Romeo and Juliet in reference to true love instead of Sue and Jonie, Why we subscribe to Bill Gates social networks but miss to watch the few successful folks in the hood, Why we fear failing in our endeavors but want to take risk, Why we complain that we are broke while we are not poor, Why we take loans and save to pay loans, The cause of poverty is wide to discuss in a historical manner, But for a brain in hunger to dodge poverty, The cause of poverty is woeful ignorance.