I’m still Rogue

The other day I’m in town sitting in a car in some parking somewhere (how vague is that sentence?). Some lady was crossing the street and she caught my eye because she looked terribly familiar. I couldn’t place my mind on where I’d seen her. Thought maybe she taught me in primary or something. After a while I figure since her face looked like I’ve been seeing her recently, she is probably one of the workers where I slave. Well, in the end turned out she is the lady who has been coming to clean my house and wash my clothes every week for over a year now. I only figured that out the next Friday when she showed up on my door step.

The point is I think my brain is full. I’m forgetting faces even of those people near to me. Seems for me to add any information to my brain some has to go out. Not a good thing. Must be because I haven’t been getting enough sleep between work, school, twitter, facebook, pinging, instagram, whatsapp, 9gag and all the stress from social life I’m pretty much a walking zombie. School has been very interesting though especially the first couple of days, I had problems trying to find out where the classes are and how to decipher the timetable. I don’t need to tell you how many classes I missed because of this.

First day I attend class, people are signing some register of attendance. In the whole crowd, turns out I’m the only person who didn’t know their admission number off head. Really embarrassing but in my defense my brain is already full, giving me an admission number with over ten characters and four special characters is hardly fair. Interesting to note, the lecturer had counted the number of stairs he took on his way to class. Which he proceeded to tell us was 66 and that if another 6 was added it would have been dangerous. He said architects are sneaky people and they probably did that on purpose.

After that he went into a spiral on satanic stuff and at some point even gave some conspiracy theories about Lamborghini Diablo (which he annoyingly kept pronouncing as dayabolo) and why someone would name a car after the devil. I was so bored in the class and as usual, staring out the window seemed like a pretty good idea then. Without mentioning names (but making it clear he is referring to me) he starts telling us that Bill Gates used to stare out the window when in class too. That is why he ended up calling his software windows. I decided I hate that lecturer.

So with the social course mates I have, after class they decided they are going to have a spot of tea. Being the anorexic that I am I said I won’t have anything but I can offer them company. I was asked what I’ll be doing when people are eating. One of them asked me “so tukikula utakuwa unatupigia makofi?” The others laughed so hard I pretended to laugh at the joke too, plotting murder in my head. I had to give in to eating with them though I was hating everything. Tea was grey in color and the cakes were  elastic. I pretended to be eating and talking and stuff waiting for everyone.

While we were eating, one of the guys asks me if I know who Fatou Bensouda is. At the time I hadn’t heard of that name. I bet you hadn’t too. The tv was on so I bet the guy just saw the name there and decided to ask me. I told him no and asked who that is. He told me it is the name of the lecturer who will be taking us for comp 701. I thanked him for the info and tried cramming the name so I can write it on my course registration form. He didn’t add anything further. My anger that evening when I was watching the news and finding out who Fatou Bensouda really is…

So the others finished their food, time to go. Alas, the urban myth on campus is that if you leave any food on your plate, the cooks just go and return it in the large boiler with the rest of the food and serve it to other students. So my course mates were insisting I should finish the tea or carry it home with me. I didn’t do neither of the two. I’m still Rogue.


Mr. Pen Thief

Last Monday, I had to spend the afternoon at some government office in town sorting some issues with my documents. I got off work for the afternoon. Working half day on a Monday = dream coming true. I decided to go straight and sort out the documents then go get lunch takeout from my favorite restaurant, go home and enjoy my food while watching a movie. I get to the place and the office is on the third floor but the line of people queuing to get in was starting from the first floor. I couldn’t believe it, no wonder this country’s economy is so badly off.

People are busy queuing in government offices instead of busy working building the economy. No let us not discuss my takeout and movie plans at this point. All these people queuing here were my main problem. Anyway, since it was a few minutes to two I thought probably they hadn’t opened the doors and that is why the queue was so long. True to my predictions at two they open the doors and we all squeezed in all seventy three thousand of us. I decided not to waste any time and went to the desk where I wanted to be served. Still had to queue here though there were not so many people on this line.

Friends, if you would like to have your little kid’s finger broken please by all means stand in a queue behind me and have that kid pull my braids and put them in his mouth. I was so annoyed, and I decided I might not be able to control myself if I turned so I decided to let the mom handle it. I hear her going like “achana na nywele ya aunty, atakuchapa” and I’m silently nodding like yea that’s right. The kid stops but I didn’t know the little munchkin was still plotting, after me and the mom had relaxed the kid just pulled out two braids from my head. Roots and all! I’m growing old and going soft I turn ready to injure people and put them in the ER and the kid is laughing with one tooth looking all cute and I couldn’t help smile too despite the pain.

I dunno if the mom had trained the kid to be doing that to help her get ahead in lines. Because, I had to let the lady come in front of the line so that I could move behind and protect the hair that was left on my head. Anyway, when it was my turn to be served the guy tells me that I’m supposed to go fill some forms and come back *curse word*. I had to go to another desk, get the form fill it, then make the line again. So all this time my eye is caught by some guy with a kid busy eating the hem of his jacket. Why don’t people feed their kids? And I don’t mean on jackets. Dunno if it was coincidence but the guy walked to me and asked me for a pen. Since I had finished filling my own form, I decided to help him.

I get at the top of the line again, then I see the guy with my pen hurrying out through the door. Quick decision time: do I forfeit my place in the line and follow that pen thief or do I let him go with my pen and get served? I decided to do the latter. After handing in the form, I had to wait for it to be processed and stuff so I get the documents. An hour later, some guy comes out of an office and declares that the systems are down and they do not know when they will continue processing the forms. Really? So, three quarters of the people in the hall give up and leave. I stay put because I knew that is just a tired worker, I tell my boss there is no internet all the time when I want to go home early.

I decided to stay there and wait for the documents. No way I was coming to this place another day. Well, well, seems my waiting paid. Guess who walked in after around two hours. The pen kleptomaniac, Mr. pen thief himself, and his jacket chewing minion! I charged at him with all the anger caused by hunger and the pain from the yanked braids and all the fatigue from standing so much. The guy was obviously shocked at seeing me, bet he thought I’d have left by that time. He started lying about how he had looked for me before leaving, not knowing all that time I was staring at him. I took my pen and went to the counter and demanded for my documents which I got within five minutes. Ended up reaching home later than I normally do even when I’m from work. Wasted day.

*Pen thieves will burn in hell in the lake of fire and burning sulphur.

My two shillings…

There’s this time a few weeks back I was watching Oprah with people who from here on will be referred to as “the company”. They had a feature about kids who are bullied at school and how two of those kids killed themselves due to the bullying. The whole thing was so sad, especially when you imagine kids below fifteen taking their lives. It was even worse thinking that there are other kids who are cruel enough to make someone hate themselves to that point. So after the show was over, me and the company got discussing about the show. The company was of the opinion that those kids should be taken to juvy and punished.

I didn’t entirely agree since I think kids are just kids. They can say something cruel without knowing it and although some are just hard nuts to crack, a good percentage of such behavior can be blamed on the parents and bad upbringing. So I was telling the company that I think the approach should be to work on the kids that are being bullied. They had a few of those kids being bullied on the show and according to me; they are actually looking to be bullied. Crazy dressing, weird hairstyles, and other things that according to me were begging for some bullying.

I just think that if these kids would just dress like the rest and maybe try and fit in, then they would not be bullied. You do not need to dress in the latest trends but if a fifteen year old is in a shirt buttoned up to his throat and hair parted down the middle with humongous spectacles with lenses that can comfortably be cut to make four more pairs… this is a no brainer people. So the company told me that they know I’m one of the bullies and that is why I am thinking like that. Well, I am not a bully actually away from the internet and stuff I try to lead my life away from too much drama. I know there are so many people that have that “be yourself and be unique” philosophy and stuff. This is all good.

However, what most people do not know is that being yourself requires a lot of strength on your part. You should not expect to go against the current and not experience any friction and opposition. That is what I learn from my physics lessons anyway. So if you are going to do things different from the rest of the people you need to be prepared to have extra strength and determination. The same should be applied to those kids. If you are going to send your kid to school with a nduma and sturungi lunch while the others are carrying burgers and soda, that food is healthy but you should know your kid will be bullied.

I guess if parents would talk to the kid and explain why what they are carrying for lunch or wearing is the best for them, probably they would be well equipped for the bullying because it WILL come. Back to my point if you cannot handle all the bullying why don’t you make yourself less of a target? Anyway that is how I see it. I’m so glad the kids in this country are not that extreme and cases of such suicides are rare. But these are just rants, I don’t have a kid I was never bullied, and I have never bullied *cough*. Just giving my two shillings…

*with love though

No More Bold C’est la Vie

So this past weekend I lost my blackberry, sob, and that has left a lot of time in my hands. Hence, I took pen to paper and decided to write this post. I miss my phone so much so I have been trying to get my mind off the mourning. Call it denial but I still don’t believe it is gone, in fact, I still hear it ringing just that I can’t find it. I know… I’m going crazy.

Anyway, after losing my phone I realized that there are so many things I never get to see because I always have my head bent over my phone. I tried getting another phone from jaber3000 who has so many she even has a separate one for sending texts only. She refused, those who can talk to her please try and convince her. Meanwhile, I am accepting donations from well wishers towards my new phone project.

Well, I realised that if you are not on your phone, there are a lot of things that go on in traffic. I got the chance to stare out the car window, tears in my eyes and I made a number of observations. First of all the things that go on inside a bus are quite interesting. So I took a bus home from town and there was this lady with two kids. It was all good except each time the bus stopped to pick or drop passengers the girl kept asking the mom, “mum, tunashukia hapa?” in a really shrill screeching voice and theirs was the last stop. Normally, I’d have my head phones on but the torture that kid was putting everyone through could not be avoided  due to my missing phone. I found my self wishing I’d gotten into one of those buses with annoying loud music. Anything would have been better than that kid’s voice. Can someone remind me why people have babies?

I was also shocked to find out that it in Kenya, cars stop in the round about to give others way. It is hard to explain because the cars stopping are already IN THE roundabout not on the connecting roads and they had been stopped by the POLICE. I thought there’s a rule like no stopping in the roundabout or something. Yes, you guessed right the traffic jam situation going on was not funny. So the konda gets out and goes to scout for a route where the bus can pass. So tiny cars are stuck in traffic but this gigantic 62 seater is going to weave through? If I was not mourning my blackberry I would have laughed. The konda comes back in and starts directing the bus through some bushes and stuff. The other buses behind as start following after like fifty meters there was a dead end with the place clearly blocked. I will not have to explain the number of hours it took to reverse back to the crowded and jammed main road with all the other buses behind and stuff.

I also noticed that people are really innovative with advertising. Someone had decided to take his marketing strategy on the bus and wrote his business address and advertising on the back of the chair in front of me. There was business name, number and how to contact the doctor and stuff. The name of the business was Joseph Tooth Cleaner Clinic. It was all good until I started reading the services offered: treatment of typhoid, coughs, colds, malaria… So I know you are also wondering why it is called tooth cleaner if it has nothing to do with teeth. Your guess is as good as mine. I wrote down the number given when I get a new phone I will call and enquire. Well, I would like to continue telling you all I saw in that three hour long journey, which is supposed to take 30minutes, but sadness overwhelms me. I will continue with this post another day after I am through with the mourning.

Lessons in Parenting

Recently I learnt that during a parents teacher meeting there are some things that you just don’t say out loud. For example, if the students are performing badly in exams, it is not in your place as the parent to say that probably it is the teachers who are stupid and it is reflecting on the student’s performance. Anyway, I had to drag myself and one other unlucky person to go for a parent’s teacher meeting. I’m not a parent, yet anyway, but I had to go and represent an actual parent who couldn’t attend the meeting.

Okay, first of all when we get in at the gate we had to register the car and stuff. It’s all okay apart from the part where the watch man asks who we are coming to see, I tell him the first name and then he’s like “ooh…” then he goes ahead and says both names. Nobody’s asking but I do not think it is a good idea when a watchman knows all the students by two names. Anyway, went in then had to get directions from a secretary who was dressed in a particularly interesting manner. I know most of you have seen me all dressed up. Honestly, I don’t always look like that but I know how to dress when I’m bound to meet people.

I guess that is enough to tell you about how the secretary was dressed. That aside the secretary tells me that I should not go in with any food. Short of asking her whether I look like a caterer, I asked her to direct me to the hall. So the setup; all the teachers have their desk and you are supposed to go round with the student listening to what each of the teachers have to say. So we started off with the biology teacher. Bless his soul for it was in the right place but instead of looking at the student his eyes were squarely on me. Telling me how if I work hard, I can do better all I need to do is ask questions in class and be keen when answering the exams. Yep, I guess maybe I was to relay that to the student later. i just wish he would look AT the student and not me.

Anyway, he made the kid pledge to improve and then we moved on to the next teacher. The mathematics teacher. So instead of talking about the performance, the baggah starts going on about how the student should not have dropped another subject that he was teaching. So I ask him can the student take the course again… He was like no. So I am like why don’t we move on and stop crying about the past that we can’t change?  That worked. Although the kid wasn’t happy and was like “we unaboo, umeharakisha teacher, nataka mom” I ignored her as we moved on to the class teacher.

It is always a good thing I don’t carry a knife because I would have stabbed someone that day. That teacher asked me if I’m the mom to the kid. I stared at him hard and long. Honestly, I know I look like a lot of things but mother to a sixteen year old can’t be one of them. I double checked my bag just to confirm that I hadn’t accidentally slipped in my knife. Anyway, in the end I managed to talk to all the teachers even the English teacher who couldn’t speak a whole sentence without saying “Sindio?” I guess that was enough lesson in parenthood.

Lesson learnt:

Never go for academic days, they are a complete waste of time. This is especially if each time your kid is asked what her target is for the next exam and she says D.

Odds and Ends… Again

So the past weekend I found out that when you are out with a guy there are some things you should never do. For example, the cab fare is normally Kshs. 700 and the cab driver all of a sudden starts insisting on Ksh. 1000. In such a situation, if the gentleman you are with is bargaining with the cab driver it is not in your place as the lady to say “it is just an extra 300, lemme pay”. Never mind that in my situation it was not a cab it was a matatu and the amount being haggled over was ten shillings. You know that feeling you get when you meet the perfect person and start planning how many regrets you are going to have and what you are going to call them.

Okay, some of you do not know what regrets are? Where do you live? Well, for those of you who just landed on the planet, regrets (according to TRUSTtm) are those bundles of joy you get when you do not “protect” your love. That is according to trusttm, hence the phrase “love bila regrets” which I think is a pretty decent way to call children (well, unless they are referring to some of the diseases you can get, which is a real issue too) Anyway I was talking about that person who makes you think about marriage, settling down, getting regrets etc. I have never met such a person. I was just enquiring if anyone has. I think if I want regrets I’ll just adopt some of them, there are so many children suffering and who need homes.

Speaking of kids suffering you see I grew up in a very interesting home. Eish, kwani how are you interpreting this? Just because I said kids suffering and talked about where I grew up doesn’t mean I suffered myself. Oh well, just read on and stop jumping into conclusions… Well not unless you are trying to lose weight because then jumping will be good for you. Anyway, so at home my mum would serve us all food. Not in any proportions, does not matter whether you are big or small, we’d all get the same amount of food.

It goes without saying that sometimes, since we were not quintuplets, either someone would end up with too much food or less food. Having less food was good since you could always ask for more food and you’d get an addition. Woe unto you if the food ended up being too much. This is because one way or another you would have to finish your food even if you had to eat it up to midnight. So this is where the suffering kids come in (I told you not too jump into conclusions… how many kgs have you lost with the jumping? *silence*I thought so too)

Anyway, mum used to give us this speech about how you are not finishing your food and there are some children suffering in North Eastern and those other dry places. In fact, for the largest part of my childhood I grew up knowing that if you do not eat all your food then those kids will suffer more. I didn’t know how it worked but I always knew if you finish your food then you are really helping those kids. Probably they will know that you finished your food and they will be satisfied too. Otherwise, I would not be given the speech about their suffering each time I didn’t finish my food.

Well, as you might have noticed by now there was nothing I had to write about today. I just got bored and thought why not spread the boredom. I know most of you expect me to hate and all seeing as this is the Rogue blog. However, word of advice dear gentlemen. If you are with a lady you are trying to impress, do not put yourself in such embarrassing situations doing all that bargaining over miserly amounts of cash. It is a real awkward situation. Oh and maybe it’s just me but I think there’s nothing wrong with getting a little help from your lady. However, not during the “trying to impress” stage. Be a man; take a loan if you have to and do proper impressing! Okay, signing off.

LOVE notes from a single girl…

I have been watching a couple of soap operas on tv lately about five or six of them concurrently. Maybe I should take time and explain that sentence before going on. I am among the unfortunate lot of the society who after reaching age eighteen still leave with their mums. In my mother’s house there’s only one tv, that functions properly, it goes without saying she’s the only one who holds the remote. Actually, the remote got spoilt a while back (and no they lied superglue does not fix everything) so I am her live 53kg 5ft6 walking remote. I only change the channels to whatever she asks, and such is my life. Those willing to donate to my kitty to buy a tv can please make their pledges in the comments section.

What was I talking about before I went into the whole tv story? Aah, the soap operas! Yes, those are the only ways things that she watches and as such I, by extension, have to watch. I could go sleep or do something else like write this post but then I have to be stopping to change channels, I’m the remote, remember? In fact, during my times changing channels I made a discovery that these soap operas are the only things they show on tv (all tv stations!). So those making pledges to please include money for a dvd player and a decoder too so I can avoid local tv stations. Well, back to my point, I discovered that these soap operas (they all the same) are always going on about this kind of intense, purest, virgin mother blessed and approved kind of love.

Never mind that in the story all the stars have babies first before they get married, not that I have anything against getting a bundle of joy before tying the knot. Without courting controversy, did the virgin mother get married before or after having her first born? Moving on, the problem I have with these soaps is this love aspect which is apparently very unconditional and lasts decades. There is this book I read, ‘love in the time of cholera’ where this guy loved a lady and waited for fifty six years until the husband died before marrying her. Never mind that during the period he slept with six hundred and twenty three women while waiting for his real love to be widowed so they can tie the knot. But since he never married any of them it is LOVE (haha), because he only married one woman the one he loved.

Back to the soap operas, they never marry the one they love upright noooo. Real love has to suffer first so you marry a couple of the wrong ones first before you finally end up with the right one (read the last episode). There is no such thing as that unconditional love (in the romantic sense anyway) otherwise each soap opera would last only one episode they meet, they fall in love and that’s it. So I come with the message of truth just to keep us grounded from all the fantasies that have been built in our heads. You can only love someone if you have a reason to and in that case it is not unconditional love because immediately the reason ceases to exist you stop loving the person. Hence the point that I’m trying to prove… love does not exist.

First reason, money, money, money! *to the tune of the apprentice theme song* We wouldn’t like to admit but it is very good to have a partner who has a lot of money. Even if they don’t share with you, you can still go around walking with your head held high since your “loved” one is rich. So you convince yourself that you love them but if the money wasn’t there you’d probably not be as in love as you think. No love. I said it. Then there is the other reason which is looks… You think you are in love with someone but all that, is about you wanting everyone to see you walking with a pretty/handsome person next to you. Oh and it also does not hurt to have nice relationship photos (as a friend of mine told me they are called) for your Facebook profile. So in that case there is no love since probably if all factors about that person remained constant in terms of personality and everything else without the looks you’d probably not be in love with them. No love.

Then you could also think you are in love with someone because of their faith, background or things they profess. I know a couple of people who tell me they would never EVER love a girl who is not a Christian, Muslim or whatever you get my point in respect to whatever religion they believe in. Well, if you do get someone from the same religion as you, I still don’t think what you have would be love since the person would not be perfect for you if they didn’t possess the personality and character you are looking for. So in essence you do not love the person you just love their faith, which means if they didn’t have that faith you’d not be in love with them. No love.

Then there are those who do not love for any of the above reasons. Not the looks, not the money, not the faith, not the background, not nothing! (double negatives I know that must be painful for the grammar nazis) However, a lot of emphasis has to be put on that since there are some people who’d love someone and you wonder why for the love of all things sacred does that person love the other one so much. My research into the love theory hasn’t covered this type of love so much but I’m still doing ground work on it. Never the less, I realized that when you come across this kind of love it is probably because the person got rejected by all the people he or she had “loved” for the above reasons. When you love different people because of their money, looks, background faith and they all reject you then you’d probably end up with one who does not have any of these. So in essence you do not love the person but you convince yourself you love them because deep down you know you can’t get the one that you love for real (if there is such a thing)


Statements made in this post do not refer to any relationship in particular and are simply the brain child of an overactive mind. Any resemblance to real relationships, whether active at present or broken in the past, is purely coincidental.