The New Men In My Life...

I had written the soppiest story about my small brother. About how when he was born, I was 5 years old, and I couldn’t wait to get back home from school just to see the baby.

Little did I know that that baby would end up being one of my best friends in the entire world to this day! So I wrote of how our relationship had evolved.

It got so soppy that at some point while writing it, I even shed two tears. I decided against posting it… but maybe I will someday. Because if I’m being honest, the majority of our relationship isn’t soft-soft like that. It’s banter, tough conversations, bickering, and then more banter. Not sop sopness lol.

Anyway, after 26 years of living together, my bestie moved out a couple of months ago. I had already started processing the sadness before he left, but I was not prepared for how bored I’d be.

To cope (because you have to cope lol), I’ve realized I now spend more time when I go out to the shops.

So I’d like to introduce you to...... the new men in my life. And yes, ranked in order of favourites lol.

1. Bena (Ben)

He works at the chips shop just outside the estate. He’s a mkao, you don’t even need to be told once he speaks. He’s basically the boss after the boss there. (Si you just know kaos hehe) If you need food delivered to your house, Ben is your guy. He will make things happen. Before you disconnect the phone, someone will already be at the gate with your order. Important to note as well is that he's married. I know this because his wife is on his Truecaller profile picture. Zaidi ya hayo, she also works at the same shop. I’m sure he organized it for her. I told you, he makes things happen.

Aside from being the second in command, he kaushas fries, chicken and assembles shawarmas. Sometimes, when I’m late getting home, he’ll put aside din dins for Steve (my other brother) and somehow make sure it gets to him. This is a big deal because Steve is hard to get a hold of, but Ben will get a hold of him. So yes, I have a soft spot for him.

One day after a walk, I decided to go get my fries instead of ordering in. Found Ben, we chatted, he taught me some Kamba words, we laughed, it was a good time. After my chips had been kaushwad with love, he packed them up.

I said, “Please niekee tomato sauce, imeisha kwa nyumba.”

He looked me in my eyes and  straight up said (please insert kao accent),

“Mremboo, ov course nishakuwekea. Ata chumvi nimekuongezea. Nyumba haifai kukaa mbila chumvi.”

What I did next shocked even me.

I blushed.

Hahaha. It was so unexpected. Aki it’s the way he said it. Like if I told him I needed an extra oven for my baking business, he’d already have it.

I blushed and immediately went home. It felt so naughty because, let’s not forget, this man is married and his wife was literally in the area. And also he wasn't even flirting.

Anyway, that’s Bena and I. We’ve interacted many times since, and I’m proud to report that I have not blushed again. Even if he adds ten extra chumvis to my fries, I will remain strong.

It was just caught off guard kidogo. 

2. Msyoks (Musyoka)

My fellow gooner. Need I say more? 

Also, during oh glorious mango season, he was that guy. He had a bunch of mangoes and would lay them out on his mkokoteni to sell. He even offered free peeling services. Wow! 

Our first interaction was during a drizzle.

I asked,

“Hauna zile umbrella?”

He said, “Ah, imagine sina.”

I replied, “Mwanaume ni kunyeshewa?”

For some reason, that really tickled him. And just like that, a friendship was born.

Every time I’d pass by, he’d throw in a “mwanaume ni…” joke and I had to come correct with my own “mwanamke ni…” response. Like when he’d ask if I want my mangoes peeled:

“Eeeh, zi peel. Unajua mwanamke ni soft life. Mwanaume ndio anakula na ngozi.”

These things really amused him. And cause they tickled him they also tickled me. Because I was buying mangoes every other day, we started recycling the jokes lol. Sometimes I wouldn’t even be in the mood (because, life), but I had to commit now. Inconvenience is the cost of friendship hehe.

Sadly and unfortunately, mango season ended. He now sells avocados—which… let’s be honest… cannot compete.

So I don’t go there as often. But when I do pass by, we always greet each other with ma syke especially after Arsenal wins. North London forever for real! 

3. The guy for Hope Onsongo

I don’t know his name, but when you pay via Pochi la Biashara, the money goes to a Hope Onsongo. And I’m sorry, he does not look like a Hope Onsongo hehe. He’s the chapo guy. And not just any chapos; nice, soft, white, thin-layered chapos. FIRE chapos you guys! 

He makes them fresh from those rested dough balls. I even told my friend that this is my personal version of teppanyaki. He has a warm smile and always acknowledges me with it,even when I’m just passing by on my way to Msyoks’.

One day I went to buy chapos and he wasn’t there. The station was empty. I stood there for a bit, contemplating whether to go elsewhere, but other places just don’t hit the same.

So I was like, “Oh meeen.” It was me and a couple of other guys waiting. Just as I started walking away, guess who appeared?

Him! 

He smiled so widely and in a soft voice said

 (insert heavy Luhya accent),

“Kuja nikutengenezee chapo.”

I smiled back and followed him.

When he got to the station, he didn’t even acknowledge the other three people waiting. He asked me how many I wanted and immediately started rolling the dough.

Two people left.

He did not care.

He just kept making my chapos, smiling.

Our conversations never go beyond “sasa”, “poa”, and silent smiling interludes. We don’t know each other’s names, but we know we are each other’s people.

Ours is a silent dance.

And clearly… he puts me first hehe.

4. Msee wa Chelsea

It’s not all’s well that ends well, because this relationship is on the rocks. He sells mtumba original football jerseys on a footbridge I usually cross when I’m getting my steps in.

I once bought my brother a Man United jersey from him (I almost amputated my hand after holding it). And that’s how our friendship with this guy began. Afterwards, we’d wave at each other, chat briefly about football, good vibes tu. 

Then I found out he’s a Chelsea fan. How? 

One day he was wearing their jersey ahead of a game against us, I think it was the Carabao Cup semi-final. I told him we’d win. He said, “Let’s wait and see.”

The game was that night.

We won.

Fofana cried.

The next day, I passed by and of course, I laughed at him.

Makosa!

He was NOT AMUSED! 

And just like that, the vibes died. No more smiling. No more warmth. Just distant waving.

So yes… it’s like we broke up.

But it was good while it lasted.

(Gosh Arsenal, please win the EPL because I genuinely won’t have anywhere to hide if you don’t. Not even on that footbridge.)

So guys, these are the new men in my life. My very active attempts at replacing my brother hehe.

And honestly, I’m glad I have these small interactions. On days when I feel a bit off, they genuinely lift my mood. (Now minus msee wa Chelsea)

But still… I miss living with my brother.

I miss the conversations, the banter, the nonsense. Even when I laugh at Man United and he laughs at Arsenal, no one is catching feelings. (At least not for long on my end hehe)

We talk on the phone now, but it’s not the same. It’s not as fulfilling as face-to-face conversations.

And to make matters worse, sometimes the network is bad… so the conversation is just:

“Ati??”

“Ati umesema nini??”

"Wacha I'll tell you when we meet"

Anyway.

As usual, there’s no moral to this story.

I just miss living with my brother.

And I’m a little bored without his presence… so I’m out here forming side relationships with chips guys and chapo men hehe.

Also, I've missed you guys sana!! 

Tis The Season! Weh Uliskia Wapi?

Guys!!! Tis the season... 

But is it really???? They. Came. For. Me!!! 

Let's cry a little first.

I was minding my own damn business on a Tuesday morning in September. In fact at the time, I was battling a cold. Ya kimataifa. My voice had even disappeared for like a week. 

So I got a call from an unknown number but that isn't new. If anything, I thought it's an order for cake. 

"Hello" 

"Hello, good morning"

"Elizabeth?" 

Heh! That was the first red flag. Because for sure only serikali calls me Elizabeth. And my association with serikali is somewhat traumatic... In 2007, my 2 brothers, my mum and the driver got into an accident at Naivasha as we were headed to Nairobi from Kakamega. So when the police arrived at the scene, they took one of our phones and called the last dialled number. It was my other brother who was in Nairobi. So they called him and said "Hello, Samuel?" then broke the news to him. 

Anyway, when I heard Elizabeth? I thought "Oh God! What's happened to my folks? Cause they're in Kakamega" 

"Elizabeth"

"Yes?"

I'll paraphrase what they said 

"We're calling you from Times Towers, we're the guys with the red logo"

I felt a bit relieved, but my knees still went weak. 

"Sasa you, you filed vile unataka!  You need to come and see us. And  btw where is your voice?"

"Oh wow. Okay. My voice is gone, I'm currently unwell"

"Sawa, weh pona, and then we'll tell you when to come see us" 

I said sawa. Immediately, I made calls. Kwanza two of my brothers are in tax related fields, so they advised me to ask those guys if I can amend my returns. 

I called and asked and they said "Oh hell to the no, you come first... " I thought "oh shit" 

I ponad, I called them, but the lady was also unwell, so they said she'll call me when she returns. 

Did she ever call me? No. Did I call them back? Of course not. Life moved on, blankets came, October came, life was sweet. 

Then I saw on Twitter how starting from next year, it's not going to be easy. Filing for expenses is going to have to be etr supported. Which aki doesn't make sense for my small business. My shopkeeper for eggs doesn't have receipts, etc. Anyway I thought, "ah, these guys with my file even called me prematurely, it's supposed to be starting from next year." Plus compared to kina Keroche, I'm an eighth of an omena. Yaani smallest fish. So I relaxed Kabisa....

Until....

Come last week Friday. Destination? Mass house. Girls wametoa form. How exciting! So we get into the Uber. But the traffic on Ngong Road is insane cause of the construction. We're stuck on the road... So we decide to take bodas to the destination, tumevaa err jackets so we'll pambana with the cold. 

Kwanza this made me so excited cause it was just a representation of peak sherehe. Yaani we've even taken a boda to get there! It was nostalgic for me cause for the past year or two, we've mostly been chilling in the house. So to take a boda to the bash? Heh! Gyal we a party animals. 

We get to mass house nicely. It's ticket time. Where's my ticket? In my Yahoo mail. Do I ever check my Yahoo? Never. What email did I use to register my tax account? Yahoo. So imagine my shock as I scroll for my ticket, only to find an email from them. Now that, that was BONGE LA SURPRISE. 

Paraphrased;

"Elizabeth!!! First, you filed vile ulitaka, then, we called you and you said you'd come. Did you even bother to come? No. Yaani and you didn't even call us. In short, unalenga serikali na hushtuki? Because of all that, here's your penalty and you have to honor it by 5th December!"

Jesu Kristu! I almost sat on the floor of that Mass House. Mind you, you can imagine how the vibe at the entrance is high. So my friends were like "ni nini? Kwani you haven't found your ticket?" I told them it's even worse. Showed them the email. They said "don't worry, you'll go talk to them. It's not as crazy as they've written". I forwarded the email to my friend who knows people, she said the same thing. So I said sawa, I'll compartmentalize it and deal with it come Monday. 

TikTok reference: My friends were like 'You must stand up Ndlovu, stand up! Stand with one leg'

Yaani, I was vibing for one minute, then the next minute I see the color red all over. Mind you the party was an all-black affair. I was vibing one minute, the next minute, wine inaonja krest bitter lemon. Heh! But I wasn't going to bring the mood down....

The weekend was lovely, I was out of Nairobi. All good things must come to an end. Weekend ended.

I went to see them at the start of the week. But before I did, on my playlist, I queued JayZ, Tupac, Biggie, JHus and Dave. I also said a prayer before I stepped in. Let's just say we spoke and I apologized. But as far as 'Tis the season!' They said "Weh uliskia wapi? Lipa ushuru kwanza"

Damn...

There's no moral to this story... 

Kiswahili Kitukuzwe

I think Nabongo Mumia must have been in a situationship with a Swahili babe before finally settling with his Luhya honeys - home is where the heart is manenos. So while they had their thing, her language really stuck with him so he passed it on to his wives and children ilimradi all of us vitukuu to the nth power speak the language. 

It all begins while all of us Bantus were chilling in the Congo Basin. Us Luhyas were curious to learn another language because in the tower of Babel, as different languages emerged, we descended with the Arabs and were interested with how they spoke. But years later, the Arabs could only enter Kenya through the Coast, then Swahili was born, then one of the babes comes to Western for something, and meets Nabongo. Damu zilivutana hehe. Then the rest is history. You know the vibes. (Don't let me teach your kids history) 

All this to say that it should come as no surprise that I, daughter of the Luhya nation, find Kiswahili to be a very beautiful and expressive language. (Btw do they have those ancestry DNA tests for Kenyans? I'm sure I'd be like 98% Luhya and say 2% Luo, for the soft life I like and Coster's music that I enjoy. Also, I'm sure one of my ancestors must have crossed over the border and died for Nyash)

Kiswahili, especially when Sanifu, is so poetic. 

Who remembers the program Tausi? I don't recall much content about it but the song, I'll always remember.

🎶tausi ndege wangu, ndege wangu wa fahari, ndege ulokwisha mali, sasa wataka nini 🎶

It also had a mganga named Karumanzira and whenever he'd pop up on the screen, he'd scare the living daylights out of me. As a tiny child, even the image of an old Mother Teresa on the newspaper scared me. I must've been a weird kid with a wild imagination. 

Anyway, someone else I vividly remember from the program is the character Rukia. Rukia, like the rest, spoke fluent Swahili but the thing that stood out for me was that she had a nose ring! Maybe she was the first lady I saw with one, because I really admired it. I thought to myself "what a beautiful accessory". I must have been 5/6 then, or maybe slightly older. I eventually got one in 2023 at 29, but only lived with it for two years. One day while I was in hospital this year, it was removed and I just never bothered to return it. My inner child I believe, was satisfied when it came to that matter.

Rukia as a name also sounded so artistic to me. Clearly I was in awe of this lady. We didn't have any pets that I could name Rukia. We only had a white dog in shagz called Boxy. There's no way Boxy could be renamed Rukia lol. 

Anyway, those were my early memories of me really hearing Kiswahili Sanifu on TV and being intrigued by it. As I grew older in primary school, for some reason, the Kiswahili lessons weren't as exciting for me. In fact, I found it boring and tedious, up until highschool. 

In came Utengano... 

"Kuna mambo matatu Kazija anayachukia" 

I was like 'Heh! Ehee, ni mambo magani haya?' I was HOOKED. Till the end. It has a really good story line. In the book, there's a part I vividly remember; Maimuna kuandaa meza kwa (min)ajili ya Mzee Abdalla na marafiki wake. "Aliandaa wali, kuku, samaki wa kupaka na mengi mengineyo." Samaki wa kupaka?? It sounded so yummy, especially when I'd get to that part just before going for lunch...in boarding school = maize and beans. Pure torture. How I wished I was one of marafiki wa Mzee Abdalla during those times. (Like I said, I'm Luhya)

It was such great story telling. Shout-out to Said Mohamed. 

Here's how that ties into my love for Swahili music. As I'm back in love with the language in highschool, in form 2/3, I discover Sauti Sol.

🎶Naomba unipe namba yako nikupeleke java, tunywe kahawa, tukizubaa🎶

Heh! Who were these that were singing Kiswahili Sanifu within a context that I could relate to? I was HOOKED. Such poetry I would find their music to be. Also, no surprise as well that out of the 4, three are Luhyas... I remember I lied to my Dad that I needed money for textbooks and with the money, I went to Capital Center and bought their album 'Mwanzo'. The next term during one insha, I just copy pasted the whole story from their song 'Subira' and wrote it as a story. I got like a 5/30 and an "umepotoka kimaudhui" lol

 ****

You know how during those meet ups when you're new people and as an ice breaker, the leader says "let's go round the room saying if we were fruits, what type of fruits we'd be" Oh my days. Hizo vitu saa zingine hu bore (no offence to you if you've ever asked this). I usually imagine if they asked what type of musical instrument we'd be. I'd say "Hi, my name is Liz Litali and if I were a musical instrument I'd be a bass guitar because at first it's unassuming but once you give it time, you experience its' depth" then I'd look at the next person. 

In short, what I'm saying is that the bass guitar is my favorite musical instrument of all time. When I hear it in a song I give it a chance. 

Do you guys remember King Saul from the Bible. He was a tormented King, but would bring David to play the harp for him. That's how you know he was living a lifestyle of the rich and famouuus.  My 'There will be signs' moment is that every weekend, I'd have an artist with their band play their music live, then later, a dj later to play for oontz people,  in my backyard... Back to Saul. 

1st Samuel 16:23 : Whenever the spirit from God came upon Saul, David would pick up his harp and play. Then Saul would find relief and feel better, and the spirit of distress would depart from him

I totally get it King Saul. Now for me, replace the harp with the bass guitar.

Which brings me to Zaituni.

First of all, what a name.

Zaituni. 

I only discovered her catalogue last week. While on IG, I heard a song on someone's story then run to spotify and that's when I met 'Labor of Love', her album and was immediately hooked.

First, it's the stories she tells in her songs. Then, she sings in Kiswahili Sanifu guys. Her voice is very soothing and weaves beautifully through the instruments. It's how the bass guitar is incorporated.... Sigh..... With the African drums as well and percussions. It is such a beautiful work of art. 

For my daily walks, in the evenings, I love to listen to music on my headphones, to hear each instrument and harmony. I take 'my' songs on these walks and return so rejuvenated.

Yesterday while on my walk, I was thinking about the Titanic Band; How they kept playing until near the end to calm passengers as the ship sank. How deep that moment was.

 

If I were Rose, story ya Jack ningekuwa nimeachana nayo kitambo kidogo. As soon as the ice berg is hit, I'd be like "Jack, I love you! You can have the plank, I'm going to the dance floor. Mwah". I romanticize how I'd request the band to play me my current two favorite songs from Zautuni's album. 'Huyo' and 'Pressure'. I'd stand in the middle of the dance floor with my white flowy linen dress, eyes closed, rocking side to side with my hands raised, letting the music drown me before the water eventually does. 

In real sense, I read that it was "Nearer my God to thee" that the band kept playing which makes sense because it's gospel and you're just minutes away from meeting God Himself. 

If the Titanic happened this week, what two songs would you be going out to? Since I'm also listening to a lot of Asake in preparation, if Nyayo Stadium starts sinking, I'd request for 'Ototo' and 'Nzaza'. The instrumentation is insane on those two for me. 

Anyway, let me know your current two songs. Watu wa oontz, Rose Muhando and lingala, you're restricted 1 song only because surely by the time ata the song starts being sang/beat drops, the ship has  already sunk. I'd love to create a playlist of you guys' choices and take them on my walks.

This was a long one, thank you for reading till the end ❤️

I Can't Believe I'm Saying This...

The last time I published a story here, I had still not yet been engulfed by the tender and loving arms of TikTok... I could still function like a 'normal' human being and go on about my daily responsibilities. Before I opened an account, I used to hear people talk about how addictive it was, but I thought I knew myself to not having an addictive personality. 

Boy was I wrong...

It's now been almost two years. Every so often as I scroll away, I miss the outside world and think about it, but I remember the outside world isn't as well curated as my fyp.

Hi, my name is Liz and I'm a TikTok addict. And I'm not here to seek saving. If anything, I'm here to look for more recruits. Like the person in the rehab who sneaks in the alcohol, weed and/or cigarettes. 

On days like today when I'm able to take a small break and think about all the things I need to attend to, first thing that comes to mind is the car that's been in the parking for almost three years...

Guys.... I'm bringing Honda back...

Sounds like the title of a scary movie...

For further context, I once wrote about it here

 https://lizlitali.blogspot.com/2023/05/visa-na-visanga-hond-civic-1999.html

A little back story; Honda is a car that was so lovingly passed on over to me by my mother dearest, but it had the worst of problems and it damn near turned me into a mechanic. I knew too many car-related problem words Sijui bush ends, tie end rods, radiator or is it carburetor, engine oil etc. WHY would a girl at the tender age of late twenties know such words? Isn't that crazy? To top it off, my exhaust pipe would fall off in the middle of the highway.... Jesu Kristu! Then the occasional mechanics asking me "tutaenda kamnyweso lini?" I did that for 3 years and GAVE UP!!! Best decision I made. I saw the world differently. I was less angry and could spend my money elsewhere. I couldn't care less for it. If it wanted to, it could reverse back into the neighbors, then into the streets and into the back side of those break-down trucks... Because it had a mind of its own, whatever it wanted to do DID NOT CONCERN ME ANYMORE. 

How did I move about? Ubers (bodas & cars), when they're not asking "uko wapi exactly" and "tunaenda wapi?" and "imeleta how much?" have made transportation easier* and sometimes more convenient. But, there's also the downside to it... A stinky Uber, a dirty Uber/ a very small Uber, not being able to make a few stops here and there. That has been getting to me...

So in the beginning of the year, I bought new tyres, ready to try again with Miss Honda, only to realize MY BATTERY WAS STOLEN! (After some investigation, because we didn't watch James Bond for nothing, one watchie said that it was the other watchie who stole it. And when we asked the other watchie why he stole it, he denied, denied, denied) I thought you know what? Never mind... It's like when you have an ex then after a long time you decide to get back together because you think you're now very different mature people and on the first day of you guys meeting, you fall back into the same sort of like misunderstanding and it's just like err, ama wacha tu! Yeah that was me and Honda.

Lately, I've been asking for it to get cleaned and it's like I miss it? I can't believe it. So the first step is getting it a battery. Then a wnd screen, then a side mirror then sijui engine oil stick then ..then.... then... Just pray for me guys... And also, buy my cakes. Surely third time should be the charm right? 

In the meantime, let me go to TikTok to find out how to mentally and emotionally handle bringing back a 1999 Honda Civic...  And in the words of Pardison Fontaine "in a Honda right now but I can see you in that foreign skrr skrr" 

Adios my people...

Also, Thank you Sarah for reminding me why I write ❤️

A toi love story

Toi Market
Image: Courtesy

"Sisteh kuja uone"

*Quickly glances at the shoes on display*

"Ah, 'apana, asante"

"Sawa. Goodnight "

I proceed to watch him return to his store which isn't actually the one with shoes, rather, it's the one with shirts. So I follow him and say "ah kumbe wewe ndio uko na hizi, hizi ndio natafuta" 

I proceed to select the shirts that I want and when I'm done, I ask him where I could get some of them adjusted to a smaller size. And while at it, if he could recommend to me the guy who sold to him his sneakers; because they were fire. He tried to explain to me the directions. He must have seen the look on my face and had second thoughts. He said he'll just take me to those places instead. The love story isn't there yet. So we went through many vichochoros to get there. I got my sneakers as he stood silently at a distance. When I was done, he said "Wacha sasa nikupeleke kwa fundi" . Again, we went through different routes to get there. Here's where the love story is (for me). For context, the time is 5:36 pm on a Wednesday. It's been a long day of baking, coordinating deliveries and now thrifting. You know how thrifting can be exhausting especially when not finding exactly what you're looking for. Or when you find something, it's either too small or too big. Anyway, we get to the fundi's and I'm beat. In that dimly lit mabati shop, as I waited for my shirts, my toi guy sat quietly next to me. He took his earphones and slipped them in his ears. That moment right there did it for me. It signaled that he didn't want anything from me, socially. All I wanted was a few moments to just chill and breathe. It's as if he understood the kind of day I'd had and I understood the kind of day he'd had and what we needed both at the same time was some sense of 'solitude' in the chaos that is sometimes a a market. I'm sure selling gets exhausting for him as well. I slipped my earphones in as well and listened to the goat himself. Not Burnaboy, silly!  Davido of course! Hehe

Someone called him.... and I could hear the conversation;

"Eh buda kwani uko wapi?" 

"Nakam, kuna kitu nafanya hapa kwa **** (I forget the tailor's name) "

"Na umewacha duka, bila mtu, kam saa hii"

♮ (musical break, aa.ati don't mind meeee. iykyk) ♮

At this point, he could've rushed the lady adjusting my clothes. Or, he could've left me and given me directions to the "outside" because I was done shopping. Or he could have asked me to rush the tailor. Nope. He simply slipped backed his earphones in and crossed his arms. We continued to sit and wait in this pleasant silence that floated comfortably between us. About 10 minutes later, the clothes were ready. I knew to follow his lead. This was the third time we were doing it in the span of say 30 minutes. So I knew the drill. 

This reminded of a story I heard on a podcast. This babe said that the worst date she'd ever been on was when she went with some guy to the corn maze huko Yues. While they were 15 minutes inside the maze, the guy she'd gone with got bored and said "hey, you know what would be fun?" Then he took off very fast and left her in there haha. So she had to figure her way out with the help of the guys who work there as well. That process took her like an hour, only to find her date at the end thinking that was so funny.

 

Not my toi guy though. Could never be him. He would never find that funny. Even in the next life. We went in together so of course we were going to leave together. He was committed to me. To staying till the end. To letting me go through my processes without rushing me. My toi-mate. A marriage without a wedding hehe.

 

Back when we got to the entrance of toi, when I thought he'd ask for something, this guy simply said "sawa, si utafika poa" and left. I'm almost (99%) sure that he went to get his commission from the shoes-guy and maybe the tailor lady but I appreciated how he didn't make it my business. He didn't care to know my name or have my number. I didn't feel hustled by him or like I'd wasted his time. In fact those short minutes spent with him were comforting. 

It's rare to feel that way (un-hustled) in Nairobi.  Unless you're very intentional about it. Or are just lucky and were born a chill person. Or you've taken some wine, or something else... (Safe space, but not judgement free). Okay, point is, the city always feels like it's in a hurry and is just about to leave, so you'd better keep up. I was telling my girls how I doubt I'd enjoy living in a sky scrapper and waking up to the view of the city; moving cars, moving people. I'd feel so rushed. My goodness. I would never take a nap because why are you sleeping yet the world is active? Oh look, there's a G-Wagon, your dream car, do you think they got it from napping? Amka! Amka! My number two's would also be done hastily because there's other things to do lady! Don't you see? There's places to go. Wacha mchezo!  I'm grateful that here at home the first view I see when I open my curtains is a white wall and my some of my neighbor's back houses. On sunny days, I hear the birds chirping. So that instills some level of stillness when I wake up. And it allows me to take naps occasionally because the wall and the houses never move. But if being completely honest, the thing that gives me the greatest comfort is "ZXE451 Mpesa Confirmed" lol. So moral of the story? Send me money via Mpesa for me to feel comforted by you in this crazy city. 

Moral of the story for real? There's no moral of the story. I hope you're keeping well especially now that we're the official opposition people in Kenya. Also may the souls of all those who've recently lost their lives during the maandamano Rest In Peace. The struggle continues...

Also, Happy Birthday to July 11th babies. :)

Gwaheri!

Did the heartbreak really go away?

One day, you catch yourself at 1:42 pm thinking "Oh shit, I haven't thought about that guy" so you go and take a seat to wallow in the sadness that you're so used to trailing the thoughts of the two of you. Before your tush touches the chair, you get a phonecall, it's your mum. She's calling to tell you about how she's going to use her new oven to grill fish, how the banana bread she baked this time was better than the one she did last time. Towards the end of the phonecall, she mentions how she's taken up too many roles, you feel deeply sorry for her. 

While on that call, you receive a WhatsApp message. 'Hey, is it too late to order a 2kg cake for tomorrow?' As you tell mum good-bye, you also reply to the message. And get to work immediately. You mostly work with either a podcast or music on. 

Then as you wait for the cakes to bake, you log in on TikTok, then Instagram, then Twitter (never X). Before you know it, it's 7:12 pm, time to whip up something quick for dinner, or just order in? Hmmm.... Later while in bed, you decide to watch something on YouTube. That's what you'll fall asleep to. You forgot to be sad about that guy.

The next time you think about him and the times you had, you're in an Uber listening to a newly released EP in your headphones. You pass the area around where he lives (between his interview you pass around lol). You're headed to meet your friends. Not at his, at a different location. Before you can even remember the time you guys headed back to his place and listened to good music the entire afternoon, your friend calls you to ask how far you are. You check Maps, "I'm two  minutes away, has everyone gotten there?" A lie because in reality, you're six minutes away but who's counting? You reply to one Whatsapp message, and laugh at the crazy reels sent by crazy friends on IG. In no time, ( okay six minutes) you have arrived at your destination. 

"Naona uko na discount kubwa madam. Imekuja 360/= si u round off" 

You feel like you've spent so much money already that day. Buying business stock, forgetting an item so having to pay delivery fees twice, paying bills, buying a face serum, paying tu debts, the ones that you told a friend 'just pay for everything then I'll Mpesa you'. They usually add up. You were recently added in a WhatsApp group where you have to contribute for a cause. Then you think of the money you're going to spend later in the night, you feel the money moods start to attack you. Plus the Uber guy was a bit rude when you got in the car, so you just tell him. 

"Heh, mwezi iko corner. Next time ntakuongezea" 

Then follows his disgruntlement, but it is what it is. 

You meet up with your people. You have a lovely weekend. 

You still haven't thought about him...

The next time you hear a song that he introduced you to, you're apathetic to the feelings around it. It's just a nice song.  And like that, the heartbreak is gone gone gone.....

That's how I've felt being away from writing. The first few weeks of me not being able to form a story that I deemed interesting, felt disheartening. I told myself, 'nyota yangu ni kama imezima' A heartbreak that was. Do you know what triggered it? Okay I'll tell you. I applied for a  writing thing in some magazine. What followed was me refreshing my email constantly....  Insert a Whitney Houston image here because I got nothing, nothiing nothiiiing. Not even a regret email. It felt like I was one of those guys who just send a "Hey" to a dm. Never worth a reply.Then later, they announced the guys who'd gotten the slots on their Instagram account. So I thought "ah, why bother?" 

I'm a millennial, us guys are people for instant gratification. I know I'm supposed to keep applying, but like I said, I'm a millennial haha. The discipline for writing weekly went out the window and out the gate. Plus I haven't been to therapy in a while so self-doubt is a thing. 

After a while, I stopped feeling bad about not being able to write. I simply felt nothing...

Two months ago, the guilt came back. The -not emptiness, that's too dramatic, but something close to that- I feel from not creating in that way has been mauling me.  I feel it in my upper abdomen, and it's not hunger for food. The heartbreak I thought was gone, but it turns out it was just suppressed feelings. The heartbreak from that guy is gone though, I promise. 

Lately, some people have been asking me why I stopped writing so I guess here goes why.

The truth is, I'll always care. So I'll try this again. 

Let's see if we'll be disciplined enough for 1 story a month now that Arsenal didn't win the league and it's time to focus on my real life. Oh men! 

Also, I'd missed you guys... 

Gwaheri... Xx

The bottle is still spinning but at a slower pace (Part 2)

#endfemicideKe 

In the famous words of the great Wahu, I am a liarrr.

What was I gonna do? I was meant to finish this story last week, but I didn't. That's the thing about breaking a story. You have to go back and read part I and honestly, I don't like reading back my stories. It just feels...... weird? . But, of course I'm Kenyan, I have to serve my two terms. Plus you guys have been harassing me (only two people). Word to Usher, these are my confessions part II. 

Where were we? Ah yes 

Fibroids....

After the diagnosis, I'd been taking herbal meds and was exercising, doing yoga, and for like 2 years, they didn't grow, (the fibroids) Then I fell off that bandwagon. I take full accountability. I went back to my one true love ; fries! I stopped working out, stopped yoga. So towards the end of last year, my stomach started appearing bigger. (Wanasema mi mimba kumbe lifestyle! No?) In December, one day after church, my mum looked at my tummy, then at me with sorry eyes and said "mama we need to go back to the doctors" 

So in the beginning of this year, she took me to get an ultrasound. I'll tell you what, after being an adult for so long and having to go to the hospital most times alone, it felt good going with my mummy. Only that I still have to speak for myself and tell the symptoms myself. That part of growing up is a scam, because doctors don't even touch your head nowadays to feel for a fever. (I didn't have a fever or a headache for that matter) 

Anyway, so si I go in for the ultrasound. The guy applies the cream on me then does his thing. Then he turns the screen to me and shows me how big the fibroids are. Largest one measuring 14cm. I ask him a few questions and I can hear my voice sounding nervous. He answers me and at the end, tells me "utakuwa sawa". Cool. I wipe myself then when I jump off the bed, tell me why this man leans in and hugs me and reaffirms me that "utakuwa sawa" and dashes out of the room. lol. That was the most awkward hug I've received this year. 1. It caught me off guard and 2. Left me with so many questions. Okay 2 questions :

a.) What in the unprofessionalism?

b.) Is this guy an empath? Yaani he's really hurumiad me? Why? Kwani he's never seen anything like my case? 

Doctor recommends surgery, so that happens next year because..... insurance....

Anyway, in the car on the way home, I told my mum how that guy hugged me and she only had one question: 

a.) What in the unprofessionalism?

As I wait for next year, I get the opportunity to get back to the lifestyle! Connect with my body through yoga and exercise? Get back to my herbs. You guys remember Dr Murugu herbal clinic? That's our kitchen now. 

Solo Dates

When you see them on social media, or read about them they look and sound so magical, it appears that guys having a really nice time. It's like they receive grand revelations during this time. Si even Moses received the 10 commandments during his solo hike in the mountain? (Come to think of it, hiking those days was brave! Those guys for sure didn't have the hiking shoes available today and those bags that have that pipe for water. Now Moses had to hike solo! With his akalas I'm guessing, but it seems that those days that was the lifestyle! I digress. I hiked once in my 20s and I doubt I'm going to hike again in my 30s, even with 1 thousand men beside me.) 

These solo dates, it's people enjoying their own company. Or so I thought... The more I went on them, I realized you know what? Sometimes they're boring... AF... This one Sunday, I went for one to Zucchini at the General Mathenge one. I was trying to read my book but wasn't paying much attention to it. When I saw that some of my friends were at Geco, I almost run out of that place. The bill wasn't being brought fast enough, the Uber wasn't arriving quick enough. Heh. I was so happy to be outta there, to go and join their wonderful company. 

More often than not though, I have a good time, especially at music gigs. I sometimes make friends and I also do my favorite thing : people watch. (That just makes me sound like a stalker sindio?) 

Despite some of them being boring, here's to more solo dates and solo adventures in my 30s. 

The breakfast club

2019 was such a tough year for me, I'd just left my sales job and was trying to get back to baking. My orders were far and wide, but it's during that time that I discovered the breakfast club. This particular segment called 'donkey of the day' got me hooked. I was both intrigued and amused with Charlamagne, so I bought his book 'Shook One' and surprisingly, I found great comfort in it. The story of his life is very compelling. Granted, he can be an a**hole, he's one of those polarizing people. Kwanza this new year he's sounding angry a lot of the times but one thing I'll never take away from him is his funny. Most of the time when listening to him, I'm either cracking up or just entirely disagreeing with his train of thought. 

Needless to say, it's been a great source of my entertainment. Their interviews... donkey of the day... rumor report. So I'm glad I discovered the breakfast club. Right now it sounds like there's a lot going on there so I wonder, eh I wanda if it'll last another decade. I doubt it.

This is also an appreciation for all the podcasts that continue to thoroughly entertain me. Shourourt to the Mic Cheque podcast.   

My girls my girls my girls

To be seen, heard, loved, accepted, laughed at and reminded of all the embarrassing things ever said or done. I can't for the life of me, imagine having to navigate the 20s without them. From sharing 1 nouba, the lipstick, to sharing our lives. Here's to us navigating our 30s together my girls ❤️

Honda

You guys know the adventures I've been on with Honda. I gained confidence (or lack thereof) on the road through her. I'm grateful to my mum my mum my mum for handing her to me. Writing that has made me emotional because ... my mum (I'm also on my period so ...) That being said, I think my journey with her (Honda) came to an end. It was always something with her and ever since I took a break from our relationship, I'm a lighter human being. I don't have to worry about sijui tie rods then wheel aligning or is it wheel balancing? My cortisol levels have significantly reduced.  Guys are like "wow, you're glowing" and I'm like "yeah, I'm not with Honda anymore". For sure the 30s is where I get a new car.

Otherwise, who wants to buy a car? Forget all the bad things I've ever said about Honda, she has a strong engine. She has a good heart. 

Food

*Sigh* you guys will blame it on me being Luhya, sawa. But you can't deny the art that food is.. The colors, the smells the textures.... God really snapped when he invented food on day 3 for plants and day 6 for land creatures. The excitement of recreating a recipe will never die on me. Or the excitement of a food order or being invited to places where there's good food, or going on a date to eat a specific food! Personally, I live to eat. I'm a certified foodie girl. This certainly doesn't change in my 30s.

God

Grateful to Him for always holding me down. 

Family

For always holding me down as well and being there. I also gained 2 beautiful sissys, and two beautiful nephews. 

Friends 

The rest hahahaha. I'm joking! A joke that might backfire on me. For real I don't consider you guys the rest. It's just funny how it's here at the end. I'm really truly grateful for all the friendships I've gained, fostered and maintained. Looking forward to still gaining new friends, and fostering the ones I have. Grateful for all the fun times and deep meaningful conversations we have and how we change each other's lives. Hi Gaps. Hi Shmoops, hi ALL my friends! 

***

This was supposed to be a post about the things that stood out to me in my 20s, but the more I write, the more I feel ni kama it's a speeeech, ile ya kuwaaacha lol. So I'll just end it here. 

*Thanks to all the hustlers and most importantly you, the customer reader*

Here's to finding our true north and for those of you who are there, here's to thriving in it. 

Gwaheri

#endfemicideKe