MY VILLAGE HAS ARRIVED IN THE CITY: NAIROBI PART ONE

Five minutes into Nairobi and I had counted more than fifteen people from my village. That and adding those who had euther been arrested ir passed on, I can comfortably confirm that my village, indeed, has moved to Nairobi. Talk of rural-urban migration and i will promise you the people from my village as the perfect case study.

Let me start from the "big" people. Adviceroi Mundalo, the man with the strange name, you all know him from the romantic kumbekumbe story. This avid lover of flying vegetables was idling on top of that flyover next to the good university of Nairobi. He tells me that he is now a manager. He manages all the beggers in River Road and a few along the begging hot spots in Jogoo Road. This man seems to have put his vast knowledge of Mathematics into good use.

I cannot fail to mention Wabwire... You might have met this man in one of your encounters with my blog, the photoman. Yes, the man too is in the city, and no, he is not taking photographs. He is in the smuggling business. He tells me that beer is a lot cheaper in Uganda and since he was born in Busia, he is well versed with "panya routes" to our neighbours to the west. He seems to be doing well too judging from his afro and the pot belly under his ribcage.

I also bumped into the good man, Shiramba. He would kill me if he learns that I didn't mention him in our blog. (it is now known as "our blog" to the people from my village). I met him within the fences of Jomo Kenyatta University of Science and Technology. I might have not seen him considering the nice hangover I was nursing after an all night party with th old boys of Friend School Kamusinga in Thika. Shiramba doesnt allow himself be ignored. H e called me by the name only people from my village use. He tells me he is a lab techinician at this technological institution. Though I do not believe him, he seems to be leading an honest life unlike Mundalo and Wabwire. A good man that Shiramba is.

How can I forget the man whom am angry with? Douglas, the boy who came to Nairobi and changed his name to a short. Literally he calls himself  "Suruali fupi" which actually means "small underwear" back in my village. I am angry with him because I did not physically meet him yet he knows how much I value handshakes! But atleast we used his alcohol which he told us to pick at Ruiru on our way to the party in Thika....

Nairobi part one, it gets funnier :)

I BROKE WESISI'S LEG

Now that I am more than 500 kilometers from Nasianda village (The village where my mom rests) I can fearlessly confess that I was the one who broke Wesisi’s leg.

I got only one reason for administering that fracture: Wesisi is one annoying man.

Where does one begin to describe this creation of God? Lets start from the basics, Wesisi is a serial funeral attender. He has attended practically all the funerals in my village. The only time he will miss a funeral is if and only if it coincides with another funeral. Trust me, attending all funerals in my village is a Herculean task, the people from my village die a lot!

Perhaps it would help if Wesisi brought a little laughter and good cheer to these sad businesses. But no, the good seventy five year old boy comes to funerals and mourns louder than the griefing. It doesn't help that he composes songs for the departed…. It is an annoying habit that would drive even the most meek of beings (i.e. me) to that bone-breaking point. He simply cannot be tolerated.

Take my mother's funeral for instance; Wesisi, or rather, his voice arrived at our homestead at 6.30 am only for him to arrive thirty minutes later. He was singing the names of people who died since 1989 in a very high pitched voice. What annoyed me more was that he had taken the eulogy, translated it into four different dialects of luhya, exaggerated it and finally made it into a song.

Upon setting foot in the homestead, Wesisi demanded to be shown the kitchen. He claimed that someone might have sensed he was coming and was trying to poison him. so to save his life and those of others, he should supervise the brewing of breakfast! I wanted to poison him right there and then! No one needed to show him the kitchen, the good old boy sniffed his way to it.

After harassing the women in the Kitchen, Wesisi finally came out with a whole debe of steaming hot tea. He was loudly sipping the brew while complaining that the milk used to make the tea was from an old cow. He even went ahead to accuse some of my good aunts for hiding sugar in their bags instead of putting it in the tea!

Immediately after downing the last drop of tea, Wesisi resumed his "mourning". He danced around the compound and seeing he wasn't attracting his desired attention, he threatened to throw himself into the grave. This did not stir anyone. Deciding to make his threats real, he took off and actually did it! too bad for him the grave diggers were only a foot into their work...

Tired of his morning drama and having exhausted all the energy his breakfast had given him, Wesisi sat behind the bathroom going over and over a monotonous chorus... I know you are wondering why I hadn't broken his leg yet... wait for it.

When lunch-time was approaching, Wesisi suddenly became sadder and grief struck him like nobody's business! He shot up and cried his way to the kitchen cursing the spirit of death! Were it not for one brave woman (a distant relative) to hit Wesisi straight on the face with a hot ugali-coated cooking stick, the man would have once again taken over the kitchen. I am sure Wesisi cried for real for the first time since he woke up that day, for I know the pain that a hot ugali-coated cooking stick brings (read the story http://nalyanyak.blogspot.com/2013/09/my-cousin-is-heartless.html?spref=tw )

That silenced the man for a while...

Now this is where I break Wesisi's leg... It is that moment when the coffin is being lowered, everyone is crying (and others pretending to), Wesisi the drama king of my village decides to grab me and take me away from the grave because he had apparently read my body language and deduced that I was going to jump in because that's what he would have done... I remembered a martial art maneuver that i have mastered and kicked the old boy right on his left knee...

I left him there yelling and went to watch the most painful scene in my life...

WORLD TOILET DAY

As a comedian I am forced to recognize this day... otherwise i would rather sit back and crack jokes with my cousin Terry than subject my fingers to this Herculean task of typing. (I am a painfully slow typist and i use only one finger)
Today is World Toilets Day, no. its not what you think about it something about sanitation. but thats not good for comedy, I have googled it. This day has an awesome name and deserves to be celebrated in equal measure! On that note, here are two toilets I would never want to use.

1) PRISON TOILET
 Right there on top of my list is the Prison toilet. I have never been arrested thank my good manners. But I hear they do not have doors. No, hygiene is not my issue. but a doorless toilet is a place you dont want to be, especially if there is a queue of pressed criminals in front of you hurling threats. It is even worse when you are constipating; which is probable considering the kind of food prisoners are given. But my friend Musa who was arrested last week for impregnanting the chief's daughter who is in form two, told me that it is not that bad. I don't want to confirm that

2) PUBLIC TOILETS
Like anything else public, public touilets cannot be trusted. Notice how they issue toilet papers and soap then charge you money for it? AHA! That was a trick question. now i know who goes to public toilets. Dont worry, I know it was an emergency.... the issue with public toilet is that people judge you when you come out... The people collecting money at the door will give you away. I remember when a friend of mine (a lady whose name i wont mention) shyly coming out of a public toilet in Eldoret only for a young man to add to her embarassment by shouting "Haja kubwa ni twenty bob madam!" (a long call is twenty shillings madam!)

happy toilet day everyone....