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 :)
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 :)
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