Finding Joy

I've received emails from people I've never met, who don't care what tribe I am, how I voted or if I voted. They've offered me shelter (should I need it), hugs (because I need them), prayers (because we all need them), and drinks (because... oh, you get the picture). I felt better. A bit wobbly, but I was getting there.

Then today I went to the supermarket. And a man who is "from my tribe" elbowed me, shoved me, and I slipped and almost fell. Then this other dude that I'd never seen before - who is from "that other tribe" - grabbed my elbow. Steadied me. Picked up my groceries from the floor. I thanked him. He smiled and said:

"But I was right here. I couldn't let you fall."

Just that. And I was back in love.



I'm back. And I still believe.

You know what?

I'm sad. I'm really, really sad. I'm very rarely sad.



Please make this all go away.

So, my blogren, tell me a story. Seriously.

Help me out here. No politics, just tell me a story.

WHEN TWO ELEPHANTS FIGHT...

... IT IS THE GRASS THAT SUFFERS.



Daima mimi mkenya, mwananchi mzalendo.

I've been away...Again.

Where have I been? Oh here and there.

And I know I owe you answers to the questions that I aggressively made you ask me.

But I simply had to share something. I went to access my account at Equity, and was told that it had been "frozen" because there had been no activity for five months. Had they written to inform me? Of course not. Just waited 'til I needed some cash... then they gave me this form to fill out.



First of all, I have to give a reason why I haven't "operated" my account? What if I'd wanted to SAVE MY MONEY??

And then - wow - the manager writes some "remarks" and can then "Approve" or "Decl.." sorry, "Deline" me access to my money?

That's it. I'm starting my own damned bank.

Ask Kenyanchick!

Look, I'm bored. And so, because nobody tagged me (I'm looking at you, Archer), I've decided to take matters into my own hands, throw down the gauntlet, take the bull by the horns...

(See? Told you I was bored).

Anyway, I've decided to invite y'all to Ask Kenyanchick.

However, don't bother asking me dumb stuff like my real name, bra size, or what I really think about Kenyan politics. I'll just lie.

But - because some people didn't tag me - I've decided to get the ball rolling and insistently answer one of the questions I wasn't asked (me? bitter?).

So, by force:

Three things (that you probably didn’t know) about Kenyanchick.

1. You know a thumbs up? I can do that with my toes. Seriously.
   
2. I can write legibly with both hands. I used to be able to write backwards, but I must have bumped my head again, because now I can’t.
3. I hate rap/hip hop (there’s no difference as far as I can see). But there are few songs on God’s green earth that I despise as much as George Michael’s “Careless Whisper.” I will do anything – confess to killing JFK/Gandhi/Lumumba/anything – to make that song stop.

So, that should get you started. Knock yourselves out.

Random Whatsits

This is an homage to my blog hero. (We’re so tight I call him Ernie. Actually, I call him that - in private and under my breath - only because we live in different countries and he doesn't know what I look like. )

Anyway here are some things that have kept me preoccupied:

• I don't understand Kenyan newscasters. More to the point, I don't understand their accents. Actually, even more to the point, I don't understand what they think they're saying. There's this new trend - Winnie Mukami are you listening? - of flattening the "ea" and "ee" sounds in a word and pronouncing them as an "i." So, according to Yunia Amunga, you are not in fact tuned in to "Capital News Beat." It's the "News Bit." In which we inform you that Raila is "sicking" the ODM presidential nomination.

I stopped listening all together when they tried to tell me about some Peace Talks...

• I don't understand Kenyans. Do we have a gene that makes it impossible to line up for stuff? Go anywhere - supermarket, government building, swanky 5-star hotel; anywhere - and try and form a line. Your efforts at order will be looked at with sorrow and head-shaking pity - by those who notice them at all. Then there's the fact that we also must have a "shameless" gene, as evidenced by the guy who came flying past me at the supermarket checkout line. I wasn't in a good mood, so I reached out for his arm and said, "Did you not see me standing here?" His classic, shameless response? "But I'm in a hurry."

• Wait. More on those newscasters. I've been keeping a journal of all their Crimes Against Language (TM). Some examples (and folks I have soooo many more...):
• KTN on Bishop Wanjiru's infamous marriage plans: "The Bishop’s wedding is on track, but her trip to the ale is not without huddles."
  
• Yunia Amunga again: "A gang of urmed thags was today ganned down..."

• Then, when they're not wenging/twenging etc. they're murdering grammar, inventing new languages/words/countries, and subverting logic.
  
• How else to explain KBC's contention that a car "fell into a cliff?"
  
• How else, indeed, to explain KBC having a graphic on the screen informing us about Elections in Penin?
  
• My personal favourite, however, was the solemn "Special Report" from our national broadcaster's prime time news broadcast. The graphic at the bottom of our screens?

8 million Kenyans are Illitrate.

Must have been an insider's story.

I'm awake, I'm AWAKE!

And I promise I'll post something soon. I haven't blogged since LAST YEAR and look what happened:

My baby daddy decided to call it quits; Iwaya came out as Mataachi; Degstar disappeared and Cherie got transferred to who-knows-where...

This is unacceptable, people. So I'm back, doing my bit for the cause. Which really means that I'm tired of long afternoon naps and a life generally spent pretending that I have money and a job. But more on that later.

Oh wait! I did meet my beloved Archer, and he doesn't seem to be suffering any long-term effects from said encounter, so I guess I'm not that toxic...

I'm working on an explanatory post, heh heh.

So... Degs and Magoo, will you come back now? Pretty please?