Posted in THE CITY, Uncategorized




Just below snakes and enclosed spaces, street bullies( street kids?) scare the shit out of me. I don’t know how to put this in a nice way so as not to seem as if I am talking from a point of privilege. But it’s true, street kids scare last night’s dinner out of my colons. And if I happen to take porridge for supper, then they don’t even have to try to scare it out. They are right there above my fear of mutura, so you should know it is pretty serious. Therefore when I walk in town I tend to keep myself. Dodging mutura stalls and street kids or I will have to resort to carrying diapers. Nasty lifestyle. I go to town only when it is absolutely necessary. And absolute is absolute, you can never argue with Mathematics; it is the language of the gods after all.

When you have to meet me, please make sure it is not in town. We can meet in a church, a jungle, a bar, a strip club, our houses, heaven, but not in town goddamit! The probability of me being bullied by a street kid is 1, and that’s absolute. Let’s also not meet at a mutura stall, because that stuff is shaped like intestines, which therefore does not do me good by reminding me of the part of my body that is scared shitless when I am bullied by a street kid. Do not also organize a meeting at a snake park. Not even a snake graveyard, if there is one. I don’t trust those things even when they are dead. They made Eve eat the apple at the Garden of Eden and we have never stopped since then. You can’t trust something like that. Also, apples are very expensive.

Nairobi scares me the most, and then all other towns cram for second place. I think Kisii street kids scare me the least. Or not at all even. I used to think it’s because I cannot get scared in my own mother tongue but then I remembered that is the language my mother uses. If a Kisii mother wants to whoop the hell out of you just stay still and cover your face. If you run away make sure you carry along a hoe. No, no, no. not that type. Carry a hoe to help you dig your own grave. Because threats in a Kisii tongue are not bluffs. If your neighbor is a Kisii and you have an altercation and then they suddenly switch to Kisii; you better apologize even if you are on the wrong.

(The next paragraphs were written two hours later because Khaligraph came on TV while I was typing. You garra respect the OG. Let’s not even argue.)

Where were we? Ooh, yes. If it is necessary to meet me any town, make sure it is in Kisii Town. But does the Magunga online bookstore know that? Your guess is not as good as mine. Okay, it is. They don’t!

When I won a book from the Storymoja Festival, I received a call only a snake park owner would want to torture me with.

“Hello, is this Mr. Richard?”

First of all, I am 18 years of age; Mr. is kind of overreaching.

“This is he, how may I help you?”

“I am calling on behalf of the Magunga bookstores to organize for you to pick your book from town at a time of your choice.”

“Will you carry diapers for me?”

Okay, I did not ask that last one. A few things to note: I had really hoped it would be Magunga himself who would be making that delivery. Or at least the call. You read a man’s blog like it’s your bible but he cannot make a call when you need it. Ja Karuoth yawa! I cannot wait to be famous like that. It comes with its own standards. Again, there will never, ever ever, be a time of my choice to meet in Nairobi town. Unless you plan to fly my ass all the way, and back. My life has been threatened not a few times in this town. So no thank you there is no time called ‘time of my choice’.

I rechecked the title of the book. I crossed my fingers and hoped it would read something like, “How to change your diapers in the midst of town”.Damn! It was not. The book was called “Tuesday” by John Elnathan. From what I heard, he and Magunga had met in town to eat fish. The audacity! They make it look so easy this meeting it town business. It’s like…like going to a strip club. So there was no way his book had prepared me for street kids. He does not know the struggle.


“Are you there?” The voice at the other end brought me back from my thoughts.
“Tell Magunga I am scared.”


“Is there a way you could just deliver it to Ruiru?” My stomach started doing back flips.

“Well yes, but I was of the opinion that Town is convenient to both of us.”

“Well, you can eat your opinion for supper then.” I muttered under my breath.

Silence. Silence. (Meanwhile, Safaricom is chopping moni at the other side.)

“Let me see what I can do about it then call you again.” He says before boycotting the call.

Shit! I don’t have diapers in this house.