Being A Kenyan

Drum Rolls!!

I have lost touch with being a Kenyan, well i'll slap my back to reality with a few tips. This post was inspired by a man on the train today; he reminded me of how a typical Kenyan thinks.......just had to remind myself just how it felt being a kenyan but not saying i'm not somalii coz i'm proud of my people n the american part to hell with them even if u gave me that blue p.p doesn't mean i'm yours period.......i just wanna show u guys the mindset of a kenyan man aight!!

Whining

Your capability to whine should be above reproach. All your problems stems from the fact that the government has not done something. You whine at the bank queues, you whine because the local askari clamped your car, you whine about the potholes in your estate, you whine about the traffic jams, you whine about corruption, you whine about greedy Mps, In short you whine, whine, whine until the cows come home.

And to make matters worse, you do nothing about it.

If I whine, I am just being Kenyan

Dreaming

You dream when one of your own is going to be in power. You dream when you will ever get to a position where you can steal as much cash as possible and problems will go away. You dream of when a friend of yours will get to procurement and hence all tenders will go to you. You dream your children getting very rich and sorting all your problems; health, education of their younger siblings e.t.c. If a woman, you dream when the rich man will come to solve the poverty puzzle. You dream that as you are walking a limousine will stop by the roadside and ask you if you would like to go in. You strategically dine in Safari Park to make sure the right person comes and fulfills your getting rich dream.

You dream that the next president will be better than the current one. You dream that he will give you white collar jobs. That he will dish out money, forgetting those who made money last regime, have made more money this regime. It’s all about knowing where the money is.

You dream till you die. Never doing anything about it. Wake up Kenyans

If I dream too much, I am just being the Kenyan

Drinking

A weekend is not one without favorite nyama choma and beer. Wonder at Breweries 1 billion dollar capitalization. We drink, we make merry. If your birthday we just buy a few beers and celebrate. In fact if you are businessman, you can count your networking escapades in the dark areas of karumaindo bar down river road, at wee hours of the morning. That’s where they clinch the deals.

Again If I drink, I am just being Kenyan.

We are a drinking nation and proud.

More Peculiar habits

Chewing the toothpick long after the nyama is over 2 hours before.

Flashing anonymously

Fighting to get into the matatu and out of it (what’s the hurry brothers and sisters)

Picking the nose

Spitting saliva on the streets (yuck!)

Urinating in places written “Usikojoe hapa”

Always either asking the persons other name or where they come from, then proceeding to make jokes about the tribal stereotypes. Like “Nyinyi Wakikuyu mnapenda pesa”(u kikuyus love money).

Having all these “please call me thank you” from strange numbers.

Borrowing other people’s newspapers to read in the matatu (I used to be a serious culprit).

Go buy your own!

Looking for affiliations with high powered persons (Kibaki is my relative or moi is my relative, just imagine)

Insisting on boarding an already full vehicle
Not belting up
Making heroes out of what would be societal rejects anywhere in the world

Throwing stones at real heroes

Asking for services to be rendered and refusing to pay for them (having done this before, I know this one pretty well). Money first, services later! Wonder no more why prepaid services are in vogue. Even KPLC wants to start on prepaid. And for post paid, the deposit is hefty, you are well known defaulters.!

Insisting to be allowed to do something which is not allowed or is illegal.Much more........to cap it up i just miss them its country with a bunch crazy citizens!!!

Shut ur Ignorant Ass Up.

I really felt the need to say this to someone today.

Why, when in the presence of people from other cultures, do some folks feel the need to try to use what little bit of language or cultural slang they know in everyday conversation? If you're not fluent, then you sound like a dumbass. It's that simple.

Case in point. I'm in a fast food resturant, and this lady in front of me in line is talking to a hispanic girl at the counter. So the lady decides to try to "communicate" with the girl behind the counter yelling out "MOOOCHAS GRAAAA-SHAAASS! ME WANT EL MAS FRIES GRANDE! SI!"

So I'm looking over at her like "What the fuck are you talking about?!?!", the woman behind me in line is laughing out loud, and the girl behind the counter is smiling biting her lower lip...trying not to either laugh in this lady's face, or slap the shit outta her ass.

The worst part about it is, the woman was black. She should have known better, since white folks do that to us all the time. I used to get irritated when a Carson Daily ass white person would come up to me talking about "What's up dawg?" or "What's happening brother!" in what amounts to either a weak attempt at sarcasm, or an even weaker attempt to prove that he/she is cool with black people. You'd think being black british would have stopped this woman from making an ass of herself like that...but it just goes to prove that ignorance and stereotypes know no color.

So if you get nothing else from this...Please don't go up to someone of another culture and try to talk like them, unless you are 100% sure that you are fluent in whatever language or dialect they speak. If not, stick to standard English to avoid looking like an asshole. Fuck the "Malibu's Most Wanted" fake ass rapper talk, fuck the "Miss Cleo" fake ass Carribean accents, and fuck all the fake ass "Spanglish" speaking motherfuckers who don't know what the hell they're talking about but think they are fluent cause they watched "Telemundo" last night. I can do without hearing that shit. Thanks.

The Best Things in Life

In semi-slow motion I move down the urban walkway in london........Today I realize I’m one day farther from my birth and a day closer to death......wallahi this is not bad news this is the way I stay motivated.......I still have much to do, as I entertain the thoughts of my ever approaching demise..........the soles of my K-swiss punish the ground beneath me. I stop at the pay phone to call home and I notice an old man noticing me.......Looking at the man and his clothes I couldn’t tell which one was older what I could tell was both the man and his clothes carried an odor that was a quarter sweat and a quarter alcohol the rest was old heavy cologne that was so strong, it distracted me from finishing dialing on the phone...............I found myself in a zone staring in...then...........When his eye caught my eye my heart jumped because it was embarrassing don’t know if it was embarrassing because my shoes looked better than his or because I hadn’t lost my loved ones or because he thought that I thought that I was better than he was or simply because on the other hand I was looking deep in the eyes of a strange man............that was probably it because it was easy for me to understand oddly on this mans filthy body............ the only thing clean was his wedding ring wrapped around his third dirty finger.......For a dirty old man he was rather composed he turned towards me and casually walked into my personal space so close I could feel his breath on my face all the things in me telling me to back away were not as strong as my desire to hear what he had to say.

then he spoke and said...

I heard a woman sing a song today.

You’ll never guess what she said.

That woman told me that the best things in life are free.

She must use the word “free” only as monetarily
not free like it didn’t cost anything
and anyways who is she to sing
about the best things in life?

ya know?

what are the best things in life...
is it love
is it happiness
is it a good husband a good wife
is it fame and fortune
is it seeing your name in lights
is it honor
is it freedom
is it knowledge and wisdom
is it charity
is it mercy, peace
is it loyalty
is it appreciation
is it salvation
is it satisfaction
is it self realization

Now, I want you to tell me
which one of these things you gonna get for free

It may not cost you a dime
but it may cost you a lifetime

With these old eyes
I’ve seen a grown man hold his head and cry
pursuing the best things in life

a leader looks in the eyes of his followers and lies
pursuing the best things in life

an 18 year old boy is shot and dies
pursuing the best things in life

a motherless child sucks poison out of a pipe
pursuing the best things in life

a young girl sells her body to the camera and lights
pursuing the best things in life

And she has the nerve to tell me
the best thing in life are free?
Hey youngblood, what are you willing to pay for the best things in life?

Are you willing to kill or die
for the best thing in life?

Or are you gonna live a lie
for the best things in life?

I didn’t answer.


I couldn’t answer.
My thoughts returned to my ever approaching demise
and I realized feisal you really have more thought to do......life isn't just about career and money

I rest my case..............old man at euston station you really opened my eyes!!!!!


ramadhan karim to all you!

ramblings

I go through this phase were I have deep thoughts but seem unable to articulate them. writer's block for want of a better phrase. on the blog here or in convo with friends. It's like the very idea of processing my mind spray into some coherent stream ... shudder ... How do you intimate to another the feelings of helplessness? of the inability to move forward with some half concieved or well thought plan, dosen't matter. This society robs you of this ability. It's all about deadlines and time windows. You find yourself trying to be logical about matters of the body and soul. Simple "I just wanna air out" chats become events to be booked into some calendar, juggled with overtime and treated like some other bit of paperwork. soul time becomes premium. You find yourself forever meeting up with friends at bars and clubs, only going to their houses during christenings and stuff, the dinner parties a distant memory, losing the ability to have deep chats about any and every. You realize you've become a drone. fully paid up member of the rat race. eat, work, sleep, fuck, eat, shit, work.


I'm all jumbled up cos I get into deep convos with people at the hospital realizing a reversal in roles. kinda like "dude have you spoken to your wife/girlfriend/lover/partner about this shit you unloading on me?". I realize that i'm inherently different to the majority at work, perhaps a more engaging cultural background, making it easier for others to tell me their life stories. Worrying that perhaps colleagues are carrying to much baggage probably affecting their lives. Wondering perhaps I'm busy using up my free time, offering some kind of pseudo therapy I'm probably in need of myself but having no time, within work and without, to seek. Annoyed I can't help my basic nature, asking a sour face "you aight mate? wassup? lets grab a coffee". Perhaps to emphatic by nature to do the 24/7 poker face.


The week's gone from one extreme to another. beautiful wedding over the weekend to hassles from fuckin consultants at work and hardcore taxmen threats (V.A.T bill of a few grands anyone?) to real joy at some very rare good news (like really, really good news). My problem is i'm the eternal optimistic. I'd see a sparkle in a pile of shit. Sometimes taking the middle ground on an issue instead of the offensive/defensive stance. I just dont see a problem with such extremes.

I'm rambling. I just have this sense of dissatisfaction. Wondering what Allah had planned. What's the plan? A better job earning more money? But to what end? What for? Do you ever stare at yourself in the mirror and ask why? what's the purpose of life? what's the meaning of it all?


Ok i'll try make some sense. nah that's for some other entry.


over and out.

Why Me, Dammit?

For those who haven't heard these before, I'm going to tell my two stories of getting approached by gay dudes out here in LONDON. Not that I have anything wrong with gay people...Just leave me out of your "lifestyle activities" and we're cool. These took the cake, though.

Story #1: The Gym near piccadilly.


I've started working in whitechapel london and decided to join the nearest gym to my area. The Ballys that I joined is located right near piccadilly, which is a part of town with a large, affluent gay community(dont but this is what i'm told be fellow workers at hosp). So basically, 65% of that gym is hot women and gay dudes. The rest are regular straight gymgoers such as myself.

So one day, I'm setting up a curl bar, getting ready to do some standing bicep curls. I've put about 30 pounds on each side, so it wasn't really heavy at all. As soon as I lift up the bar, this one guy with a thin beard down the middle of his chin runs up to me in limp-wristed fashion and says "You OK? You need a spot?"

Now this would have been cool had I actually needed help, but it was my first rep on my first set. Plus, dude was standing so close to me I could feel his breath on my upper lip. I don't like ANYONE in my personal space like that...so I yelled out "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?! GET AWAY FROM ME BITCH!"

So dude backed up really quickly, and said "I just thought you might want a spot"

To which I replied "I'll ask you if I want a spot. No get the fuck outta here."

Then some other dude was like "That gay dude was all up on you! I don't blame you for calling that bamma out. I'd have dropped the weighs on that nigga's foot"

Believe it or not, the stories get worse from this point forward...


Story #2: The Serenade

This story is the worst one. I was coming from the laundromat one Sunday morning after having worked all Saturday night and just staying up to get my clothes clean. While I'm waiting at the bus stop, this old guy who looked like ReRun from What' Happening came over where I was and sat down to wait for the bus, too. The guy was trying hard to make conversation, but I was tired so I kept giving him responses like "Uh huh", "Yeah", Nah, and "Alright."

When I did finally turn and look at ReRun, he looked me dead in my eye snd stared at me longingly. I was thinking to myself "I KNOW this motherfucker didn't just give me a look?!" but since I wasn't sure, I just let it go.

Next he says "Say man...have you ever heard that song by Mint Condition called 'Pretty Brown Eyes'?"(WHO THE FUCK R THEY FIRST?)

Then the fool proceeds to break out into song, right there at the bus stop. I mean, singing his heart out with passion and conviction. Singing like Tyrese was singing to that bottle of Coca Cola in the old commercial that used to come on. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

I stood up and said "Motherfucker, are you SINGING to me?!?!"

Dude tried to save face and was like "No...I. uh, wasn't singing to you. I just wanted to know if you knew the song"

For real, he doesn't know how close he was to catching a beat down...If anybody else were out there to witness that, I would have had to hit the guy, just to save face and make sure folks knew that I had nothing to do with that flagrant display of punk assedness.

I hope these amused you all. Hopefully, I won't ever have to update this with another story of being approached in that manner...LOL.........but british asses r to in ur face .............DAMNNNN!!!

been long I posted anything........... Well more like I've been bogged down trying to sort stuff out. Can't say I didn't contemplate calling it a day (like all the time). But where would I vent when I need to?

i needed to say something on the 13th of sept about my all time great legend tupac amaru shakur but was busy with lots scannin shit at the hospital....in way i will feel guilty if dont post anything about him.

Tupac shakur was tragically gunned down on sept 7th back in '96.Just at the time i was arrivin to the so called land of the free (america). Ten years to the day and my memories of dude hasn't changed or faded over the years. I remember the repeated news bulletins reporting the unfortunate event. I felt sad that day because I had started to believe his couldn't be got. This is a guy that thrived against all odds, being born in prison, mother a drug addict, from a family of persecuted Panthers, a bonafied thug. A political gangsta, almost without cliche. In hindsight his actions and beliefs destined him for an early grave. The good die young. I shudder to think what he would have been today had he lived beyond his 25 years on earth. Dude was large. Pac courted controversy and wasn't afraid of anyone. You could say he was misguided as a result of his association with Death Row but Tupac was his own man and was beyond mere influence. I kept an ear to the ground and listened to his stuff. As I type I'm listening to a selection of his music and his lyrics ran deep.

This was a young man obsessed with his own death, his own mortality. Most of his songs explored this theme. He had a deep conviction that his own death will be swift and violent. A lot of the songs explored forgiveness from God for actions that cannot be avoided. Tupac was an enigma and even now has forums heated discussing who he was. And the conspiracy theories would not rest. Who really killed Tupac? Why was he killed? Is he really dead? It's a testament to his music that ten years down the line hundreds of his mp3s litters the Internet (literally). It's like people can't enough of him. Yes the shoddy compilations (music/dvds) still flood the market with poor quality control, but this hints at a continued thirst for Don Makaveli.


Tupac people may or may not agree on what you were but your legend is secure.



R.I.P BRUV!!!!

Catching Up To Old Friends

What can I say? This weekend has been great. For starters, I finally replaced my stolen cell phone with a better one. I still haven't gotten around to using all the little features this bad boy has. I feel like a little kid with a new toy right about now. I've been taking pictures of all kinds of dumb stuff with it just because I can...LOL. the only drawback is I lost so many phone numbers when the old phone was taken, that now I can't reach most of the people that I know unless I run into them somewhere or get their numbers again from someone else.

Saturday at the club was super busy, but it was cool becasue I ran into my boy kamau, whom I used to go high school with. He told me about the barbecue organised by jemo( some guy i cant remember but tells me lotz about my big bro) from Kenya had lined up for Sunday and invited me to go. That cookout was great, because I really missed hanging out with kamau and nassir.

Let me tell you all about Nassir. Nassir is like a 5'6" lightskinned whup-ass machine. That brother looks mild-mannered, but if you test him and make him hit you full blast....you WILL get lifted off your feet and end up on your ass somewhere. He's cool as shit, though. You'd REALLY have to push nassir to the limit to get him to lay hands on someone. But if he does lay hands on someone...God bless that poor motherfucker, cause dude is fully capable of breaking every bone in your body twice LOL.

The biggest development is that I am starting my training/gym back up again. I've been keeping myself fit, but this is going to take things to another level. I'm ready for the challenge, though. Other good developments from Sunday are I got to see one of my old crushes from back home in Nairobi again over there. She looked good in school, but now she looks fan-tastic. Had a brother about to holler like Pharrell, talking 'bout "GOT-DAAAAAAMMN...WHOOO-O-O-OOO!!!!....WHOOO-O-O-OOO!!!!". I maintained my dignity this time, though. I also got to seemy best friend ibra. If you all can't tell, I'm excited about it. i last saw him b4 when i went america back in 96........i'm startin to like uk coz i'm gettin to meet all these dudes makes me think i had kinda lost touch with my kenyan roots not forgettin that i'm still somali(sijui) or as somaliz call us sujuu!!/sijui..........but i should'nt worry coz i still believe i'm kenyan at heart or is it somali but thats a question for another day.

Hell, you gotta love that attitude. It's actually looking sunny outside now, too. Hopefully things will work out, cause today i'm reallly cool. I guess I'll talk to you all later. Time to go do that white chapel thingy!!......n i promise today to help any ayeyo or islaan that i meet at the hospital u will be my first priority!!!.....no let's say any african that needs help will be helped to the uttermost of my ability even if i hve to let the white folkz wait at their appointments time........isn't that racist??.....i'm just following what they do i've seen them do that to my folkz.....or is it just britshness???

Black/White

You know.....I was doin' some dangerous shyt the other day. I was wondering why is all the good shyt labeled white, but all the negative shyt is labeled black. Take a second to think about that shyt. If I tell you a little harmless lie that's meant to protect you, it's called a lil' WHITE lie. But if I'm bribe you, and get you to do some underhanded shyt....guess what, that's BLACKmail!!

Still not convinced? When Tesco's or another department store has a large sale...its called their WHITE sale. Right. But the day after Newyear when everybody and their aunt hits the mf mall, mfs get trampled at the door, and hit in the mouth over the last Playstation....what's that? MF BLACK Friday!!

It's all kinds of negative shyt associated with the word black. When your power goes out, it's a mf BLACKout. If a plane crashes, they check the BLACK box. If you don't fit into a certain category, you're the BLACK sheep. If someone is spreading lies about you, you've been BLACKballed. If you buy some illegal shyt from up in the cut....that's the BLACK market. And how come the BLACK cat has to be the evil one? WTF!!

But on the other hand...the president lives in the WHITE House. When you die, they tell you to walk towards the WHITE light. And in December, I'm supposed to dream of a mf WHITE Christmas?? Fukk dat!!

So what i want u british folkz the so called owners the english language to Do us ALL a mf favor and disassociate Black with negativity. After all, the KKK wears white. Hmmm

I was playing chess last week with a friend of mine. He went first. He immediately grabbed his white pawn and moved it forward. I said...."Hold up, mf....what you doing?" He said, "The white pieces move first." I said....."Naw, bruh.....not in MY mf house!!"

Respect My MF Space!!!

It's saturday night. It's the start of premier league Madness. Me and my boy rashid decide to hit up a bar to watch the game since all the mf tickets are sold. We finally choose Hooters near edgeware road as the spot since they can get us a seat next to a tv in 15 minutes.

It's madd crowded, but its all good. Everybody's there to watch the game. The drunk azz people at the table behind us leave. Then 6 people get seated there...5 girls and 1 guy. It's all cool 'til this 1 of them (with her back to me) decides that my space is now HER space. She gets up to go to the restroom, and as she stands up, she reaches over to lean on my mf table. WTF! Then....when she returns....she puts her hands on my table again to sit down. You're thinking.....oh that's not that bad. But wait, it gets worse.

The game is on now and england start whoopin poor andorran asses crouch scores!!!, and this chick decides that she needs to be more comfortable. So guess what? She leans back in her chair....and rests her elbows and arms upon my table next to my mf fries. So then I place my burger down.....(pause to gather composure........think before i speak, ...okay, i'm good)..."um, BITCH you need to move!!" Sean just shakes his head. "Naw.....fukk dat."

Seeing that I'm irritated, our waitress comes over and asks what's wrong. "Your girl 'bout to get hit wit a mug", I say. Understanding my problem, she decides to help a brutha out. She returns with a 'lil peanut butter to ease the pain. She then spreads it all over that end of the table as a welcome treat for when our "guest" decides that she needs more space. Dats what the fukk i'm talkin' bout!! I slap five and do the "chest bump" wit our waitress.

Quick summary......just cuz this ho was in her mf element, she thought she owned all the space around her. Reality check. All this over here (encircles self with hand motion).....thats all ME, bytch. Madd shout out to Tracy (I think thats her name)....the waitress at Hooters on saturday night. Anyway i'm startin to like it over except that i just have to find things to rant about!!

laterz,

You Are What You Attract

Today, I ask a question to you that has been looming in my mind since my high school days. That question is, do you feel that the mantra "You are what you attract" is true?

When I say you are what you attract, I am basically saying that if you seem to constantly meet individuals with horrible flaws and deep-seated issues, then maybe you need to look at yourself to figure out why. I personally do not know if this is always a true statement, but I do feel that everybody should take inventory of their best qualities as well as their flaws if they feel that they are meeting the same type of Mr. or Mrs. Wrong. If you know me or you've read this blog, then you know there is a story coming up.

Back in high school, my friend ahmed gave me the nickname "Trick Magnet", since I seemed to have an uncanny knack for meeting women with all kinds of baggage or no common sense whatsoever. Back then, I would just laugh it off or make fun of him because his girlfriend was a linebacker. No bullshit. He really dated the only girl in our school to play on the football team. She didn't look like shaquille oneal or anything disgusting like that, but still. Just the fact that I could call her a linebacker always gave me an ace card to pull whenever ahmed started cracking jokes.

Fast forward to sophomore year in college. I had an unprecedented string of bad luck dating. Almost every woman I went out with was either selfish, dishonest, or just plain slutty. So one day, I had a conversation with the dorm director since she was one of the coolest people I met at Hampton. I told her about the last 5 women I had been out with, and she said "You know what they say...you are what you attract."

I then followed up with "So you're saying I'm a selfish dishonest slut?" To which she replied "You're not selfish or dishonest. Heh heh heh."

I wanted to be like "HA HA HA! VERY FUNNY MOTHERFUCKER!" but since she was trying to help me, I took a step back and reflected for awhile. I came to realize that even though I am not responsible for the numerous character flaws in those women, had I looked at something other than their external beauty I might have seen a lot of that shit coming. So yeah...I ultimately had no one to blame but the man in the mirror...

so yeah, I looked at myself honestly and saw that I was a sucker for beauty and women with low inhibitions and high sex drives. Since that day, I've strived to seek women who have more to offer than just physical beauty. Don't get me wrong, I sometimes get caught backsliding...but overall I've done a good job.

Basically, what I want you all to take away from this post is that honest self assesments can be good for most everyone. If you keep on attracting assholes, maybe there's a reason why. Don't beat yourself up, but just think about it.

have a nce friday folkz........kwaheri kwa sasa!!!