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Madaraka Day: Part II – KBW

madaraka

Google doodle above stolen (shamelessly and with permission, of course) from Kui’s blog – I am only doing this cos I could never duplicate the envy (and jealousy) I am feeling right about now – and I am trying to show off (that I know people (Kenyans) in KBW that can do things like this – 😀 ). LOL When google decideds to sue Kui for infringement of one or two copyright laws, she is by extension naming me and you can all be ready to have banners and placards on your sites with ‘Free MJY and Guess – they are KBW members’ on your blogs. (Thanks MJY)

This is a collective comment to all the blogs that marked this day – just because I didn’t comment on your post doesn’t mean I didn’t read it – I read all of them, with pride. And as one of the bloggers noted today, for the non-bloggers who lurk or comment – go on, get blogging. We love your participation but we also want to participate in your blogs too :(

Today has been a good day, a truly marvellous day if I can be honest. Since I got into work this morning, I have been camped at the Aggregator (and collected four viruses on my work computer for my enthusiams :( – those Northern geeks are going to town on my Internet usage at work, wait till morrow) to read all the new posts about Kenya and Madaraka Day – and to be honest I wasn’t disappointed; on the contrary – I have had my heart swell, palpitate, tears threaten to spill, my patriotic side pulled to the fore, laughed at funny ties, gushed at beautiful voices singing, gone green with envy over a doodled Google logo, seen beautiful pictures of Kenya, listened to a dead man talking to me about the white man not having priority over a black person when they are sick, sang the national anthem (to the Acrobat on the phone – sorry dude, my singing is to be henceforth confined to the bathroom) read the dissenting voices, heard people who aren’t Kenyans praising Kenya, learnt about music and musicians I have never heard of or know about, learnt that running around in this rat race we call life doesn’t make me a rat; but I am still in the race, discovered other displaced Kenyans, smiled mischievously at the mention of lovely Kenyan ‘chicks’, wondered about the ratio of birth to death rate of goats in Kenya (don’t tell me you never wondered about that too) and just laughed and clapped and sang and felt like life was good all over again.

In short, I realised that I am not alone, and went 360 degrees round the bend dancing.

And that was before my 1200hrs lunch break.

(Major digression, give me a minute please)

With my stiff upper lip and downcast eyes, I went to the supermarket (Sainsbury’s local) to get my daily dose of the Guardian, a Lucozade Orange and some chewing gum, while waiting for my friendly Italian deli to make me lunch (those guys are the best, they know me by name, and if I could be broke enough to ask for credit, they wouldn’t bat an eyelid). In my ‘local’ local there are these Black women who work at the cashiers’ desks who always gush at my braids – I always have to explain, on different days to different people, that I had them done in Kenya – and they invariably turn green – not sure if it’s the braids or the fact that they were done in Kenya.

Anyway, one day I get to this lady that asks the same question, and when I tell her that I had them done in Kenya, she goes: Oh I am Kenyan too. And that did it, we chatted a little bit and that was that. During the busy City lunch hour, you don’t have the time to run around reminiscing about home so I always just wave or say hello when she is on duty.

Today, I was behind the dude that went to her register, so I went to the other lady waay over near the back – she (K) had noticed me, smiled and waved. As I left through the back doors, I thought to myself: This is Madaraka day, shouldn’t I go over and say hello and wish her a good day? Isn’t that the spirit of the day?

So I go through the front doors and wait as she serves a customer. She says hello and smiles – give me a second.

So I say: I just wanted to say hello and wish you a Happy Madaraka day – you know, not wanting to intrude but also wanting to just pass the wishes for the day.
In true Kenyan style she goes: Oh my Gosh, I forgot.
The other cashiers on both sides wonder what is going on and look at us frowned and funny, and the lady being served looks a little peeved that I interrupted her paying for whatever she was paying for.

K (the name on her tag) asks me to wait a minute.

The customer leaves and we chatter about this and that – and then she asks me: Why don’t you come by tomorrow, I will give you my number and then we can go out for a drink or something. LOL what is a Kenyan without the obligatory drink with a fellow countryman even though they are complete strangers in a strange land. This lady doesn’t know me from Eve and does not even know my name.

I was in heaven.

Mainly because not only did I make her day, but also she put an extra spring on my step.

/end digression

What am I saying?

When K said she forgot it was Madaraka day, I just smiled – mainly because this time last year, I would have said the exact same thing. I see a date on my phone at work and crack my brain to figure out what the significance is, but draw a blank cos my mind is elsewhere. I have to admit that even when I read about Kenyan activities going on in London, my first and second and third ad infinitum instinct is to just about file them and hastily forget about them.

Doesnt matter that I buy T-shirts and paraphenalia from Kenya with Kenyan flag or words on them, or that my printer has had a Kenyan flag on it since 1999 (flag bought in Atlanta, USA, no less), that I got a Kenyan Tshirt from Msanii, bought from the USA, delivered from a warehouse in the UK for my birthday this year, that I buy Kenyan Tea, actually KTDA tea from my local factory, to give to friends as presents from Kenya, doesnt matter that I feel proud saying that I come from Kenya, and not any other African country, listen to BBC Kenya news online in Swahili just to update myself on the lingo (and fail miserably) – damn, anything that you can associate with Kenya is wrapped up warm with extra central heating and the obligatory blow fan, but that in itself doesnt make me a Kenyan patriot with pride.

Having lived abroad for (insert figure denoted by a donkey) years, I have been desensitised to a lot of things – and most of those are skewed towards national holidays in Kenya. You don’t get to take the day off, watch TV and listen to boring Presidential addresses (hey Ms K), see flags draped around monuments and buildings, listen to great new music heralding our (shamelessly using this) achievements – listen to this song which still brings a big choke to my throat, although I wasn’t born then:

(Making this one up, big time – would appreciate the lyrics if anyone is so inclined)

Ilikuwa December kumi na mbili
Watu wote walisikia Kenyatta ameshikwa
Hakushikwa Kenyatta peke yake
Lakini walikuwa na shujaa (I think)…..

Woi woi woi
Woi tunataka Kenyatta awachiliwe

(PS: Kenyatta was a personal friend of my paternal grandfather; they fought in the wars together, and they died the same year (RIP Guka M), hence the whole star-struck routine)

Moving on..

What I was meant to be saying, and mercilessly failing, is that due to being a blogger and a Member of KBW, I only have thanks to say to anyone and everyone who has lifted the veil of indifference that I have always worn for this and any national day in Kenya. If I weren’t a KBW member, I would have sailed through today without the joy, the appreciation, the pride, the honour, the knowledge, the shame, the laughter, the tears, the added friendship, the heartfelt gratitude, the shared common bond, the kinship, the near heart-attack, the wondrous mountainous information – the sense of belonging, that I got today.

And its still coming in

The Americans use the whole: ‘I’m an American‘ – to just about get the world to roll over and kiss their collective behinds, today was our day

Happy Madaraka Day all

KBW rocks on..

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F4′d (Foreign Foreigners Forever F*)

When you are not being treated like a potential terrorist and divested of your shoes, dignity, personal effects and your innards X-rayed, they are taking your picture, fingerprints and asking you the stupidest questions known to man.

And that is just at the airport

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Then you get to the other side

You are treated with suspicion, frowned at, avoided and asked the stupidest questions known to man.

Yes, you guessed it, you are a foreigner – or like the other side of the pond likes to call them, an alien.

For years you fight and wrestle and prostrate (and in some cases prostitute) yourself to the system until you are standing on your own two feet; tall, proud and able to show some fruits of your labour.

Years spent missing out on your family, missing home like crazy, going through all life’s wrangles alone have gone by – and then you have had enough (and made enough) to make that pilgrimage back home to see the folks. Pictures on the Internet, phone calls, text messages, emails and stories from others have made you so homesick that you can’t wait any longer.

Years of running around like the rat you are, singing to a tune you don’t really understand, bending over backwards to fit in. Smiling the plastic smiles, ignoring your neighbours and avoiding the police (and maybe the Immigration Service), learning the ropes and speaking the lingo has taken a toll on your life.

Years learning that not only are you black, but you are BLACK – and that means something not even your Geography/History/Biology/Ethics teacher in primary school knew, leave alone knew to teach you. They think you are lucky, they marvel at your success, but deep down, where no one sees but you, you envy the simplistic life that they lead – and that is why you are undertaking this prodigal son routine.

When you are not being treated like a potential terrorist and divested of your shoes, dignity, personal effects and your innards X-rayed, they are taking your picture, fingerprints and asking you the stupidest questions known to man.

And that is just at the airport

Then you get to the other side

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You are treated with suspicion, frowned at, avoided and asked the stupidest questions known to man.

Yes, you just got back home, where you are now a foreigner.

Cries of: ‘You have changed’ echo everywhere – like somehow living away from home puts one in a bubble where time doesn’t exist.

Given, you speak differently, your outlook on life is forever changed, you have dealt with life without the support of family and familiar friends, you have conquered molehills, made mountains out of protuberances, dipped your beak into the anthill, and come out of it scathed, but alive – and jolly glad to be back

Your mother treats you with kid gloves; your old friends treat you with suspicion, your extended family worry that you don’t remember them, strangers point at you and whisper among themselves, everyone is asking whether you still understand your mother tongue.

Now you are definitely an alien

To you, you may have changed, but you are still the same person – and would rather not be treated differently

To everyone else, you have changed, and definitely need to be treated differently.

You hunt for the old familiar grounds, old familiar friends, old familiar parents, old familiar life – but things have moved on, so has the people.

You are a stranger, in a strange land, but you are home.

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You want things to be the same, but you want them to be different from what you are used to, although you secretly crave that which you left behind. You are frustrated that you can’t have the things you left behind, although you didn’t expect that, you hoped, wished and prayed.

But is that not why you came back?

You want people to be the same, but they are different from when you left home – hence why you are uncomfortable to be back

But comfort, like happiness, is a state of mind
And who are you to dictate that to others?
When you are still trying to mould that for yourself?
You can teach as much as you know
But you cannot know as much as you need to learn
We all know as much as we know
But not enough, not more to learn, or to unlearn

You want to be treated the same as before, but you have changed from the kid you were then – hence why things cant stay the same for you waiting for you to come back.

But back you came, because this is home.

Kenya

The motherland – literally and figuratively.

You are still a foreigner, an alien, but you are home

They may treat you differently
Things may have turned out differently
Life, as you know it, is different
But you are home.
You are Kenyan
Do not let no one, and I mean no one
Tell you differently
They are your family
They are your people
You have every right to be here

There aren’t any people more Kenyan than others
There aren’t people more patriotic, because they live in Kenya
We may be aliens where we are because we come from Kenya
But we will not let anyone treat us like foreigners cos we don’t live in Kenya
Have you never had a parent/sibling who works out of town (or in town)?
And they come ‘home’ every other week/month/quarter cos they couldn’t commute?
Did you treat them less of the family cos they didn’t have dinner with you every night?
We are boarding school students, long distance workers, married siblings etc
Same difference

Home (Kenya), Home (your adopted home) and Foreign lands thereafter, you are Forever a Foreign Foreigner!!

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I’m dying
Are the best I’ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
Its a very very, mad world, mad world

And that is my story, and I am sticking to it
Cos Guess what, I was born in Kenya
My parents, my love and my family are Kenyan and live in Kenya
My home is in Kenya; Tommy (my dog: don’t ask, I didn’t name him) lives in Kenya
And not even the Queen of England can take that away from me

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Group Hug (and the Missing KBW card)

I have always been fascinated by the power of the human hug – and it was reinforced when I was watching ‘Good Will Hunting’ (ignore Ben ‘slimy’ Affleck was in it) years ago where Will (Matt Damon) was being hugged by Robin Williams, and Robin ‘Dinnay is Saved’ (LOL you have to watch ‘Birdcage’ to get that one) Williams was telling him ‘Its not your fault, its not your fault’ and Will cried and gave in.

We all need that ‘reassuring’ once in a while to perk us up and make us feel ‘important’ in the very big world that is our very ’small’ world.

You watch humans breaking down and the hug is what makes them either cry or stop crying.

A child crying is placated by a parental hug
Someone giving another his or her condolences does so with a hug
A human offering their congratulations is epitomised by a hug
Giving thanks is normally done with a hug
‘Nice to see you’ is normally a hug
Every time I turn up at my parents’ house, I receive the warmest hug from both
Families offer a hug and a kiss to declare their gratitude/love et al
Goodbye is a hug
Welcome is a hug
Sorry is said by a hug
Breaking up is done with a hug (physically, normally)
Making up is done with same

A hug
At its best
Is honest
A hug
At its worst
Is an insult

While growing up, I had never, to my knowledge, received a hug or a kiss from either of my parents.

Nowadays, I get like 50 – and a kiss and I love you from same.

What changed?

That form of human contact is alien to some parts of African, definitely not a Kenyan thing to do especially with the older generation to my knowledge.

Shaking hands is.

My father, as far as I know, didn’t do hugs or kisses when I was growing up in Kenya, but now seems ‘down with it’. Needless to say, a hug from my dad, a proper ‘ol’ skul’ dad, is more special than one from my sisters or best friend.

Is it me who has changed, or is it the society in Kenya that has changed while I have been away?

I definitely haven’t witnessed my dad hugging anyone else in the family, but then again in the last 11yrs I haven’t been in the same room with my whole family at any one time, or witnessed any of my siblings ‘coming home’ from abroad unannounced (LOL a story for another day, but I always leave them to fight over ‘who knew she was coming‘, while I go talk to the cows, accompanied by the dog) and/or receiving said hugs.

It seems that since I have been away, a lot has changed (me or it, I am not sure, and not ready to dig myself out of that whole hole yet – read: still digging in, and yet it seems complete – don’t ask)

There is a crew in Fortworth, Texas that at the mention of my name, will go: G, the woman with the strongest most genuine hug on earth.

I know for a fact that I can’t stand anyone who gives a hug for a hugs sake (it [the hug] couldn’t give a hug [read: F*] so just be truthful with the whole hugging business or just don’t do the whole ‘I am hugging you because I ought to but not because I want to’ business. Like I said before, it is insulting.

Just dont!!!

It makes it feel worse than it really is, so dispense with it already.

I know that for guys (with other guys), there is a whole ‘I-do-not-want-to-hold-tight-incase-I’m-misinterpreted’ mode going on, you do your thing (but do hold that bit tighter and longer if you want to put a message across, I am cool with that), but not with me guys. I like my hugs tight and close, and a decent time lasting ones – to my knowledge I have no BO and nor am I hideous. :( :(

In true Maitha mode (read: unwittingly and innocently saying what you need to say, victims notwithstanding) – I only have love for you Maitha), I am outing peeps that I did or didn’t ‘feel’ the whole hug thingy that I can remember:

Boys: (given: if I have ‘met’ you more than once, we are already ‘friends’ and I expect a whole ‘personal space not violated’ mode of hug:

Nick: a little shy on that department – (still investing in the whole hole digging ‘grave[l]dept)
Milo: Hmmm, he is gooood
Blue: Yumm (yeah, another shovel re:hole)
Mental: Definitely, loads
Hendrix: (Mental’s Brother): Definitely Yumm
M: Yummy daddy (I really didnt need a new shovel, still digging people) :(
Daud el Rude: Yumm, gooood (after proper introductions, mind)

Girls:

Ms K – definitely a real hugger – not very tall, be ready to bend a lil (remember that hole that was completely dug, hmm, still digging)
Gish – Yumm, very real – also a short(er) hugger
Shiroh – very good, once she gets to know you
Kenyan Pundit: Very real/warm

(Isn’t it a bit eyebrow raising that I have met more KBW men than women?)

As with a false smile a la the British, you look more stupid than if you just did the whole handshaking business – although no one shakes hands in this country anymore, unless it is in a formal setting.

Sidenote: does anyone feel awkward when humans proffer their limbs to be shaken without even acknowledging you with direct eye contact?
Does it bother you that its so ‘automatic in our society’ that you don’t even care to ‘feel’ it anymore??

I sure do!

Damn, I have lived out here too long..

So what is it with the whole human contact thing that makes us all go oooohhh inside and want to connect.

In true Guessaurus mode, I went thesaurus on you all:

Embrace, cherish, clasp, clinch,cling, cradle, cuddle, embosom, embrace, enfold, envelop, follow closely, grasp, hold, hold onto, keep close, lie close, lock, love, nestle, nurse, press, receive, retain, seize, squeeze, stay near, welcome,admire, adore, appreciate, apprize, care for, clasp, cleave to, cling to, coddle, comfort, cosset, cultivate, defend, dote on, embrace, encourage, enshrine, entertain, fancy, fondle, foster, guard, harbor, hold dear, honor, hug, idolize, imagine, like, love, nourish, nurse, nurture, pet, preserve, prize, revere, reverence, safeguard, shelter, shield, support, sustain, treasure, value, venerate, worship brooch, buckle, catch, clamp, clench, clinch, clip, clutch, embrace, fastening, grapple, grasp, grip, hasp, hold, hook, hug, pin, safety pin, snap

Three quarters of today (yesterday, I realise that I should already be sleeping but hey, its a long weekend people) I really could have done with a hug, a big one, a group one – I seem to be shouldering a lot of other people’s problems/issues than I am doing my own life and it does sometimes come to a head.

Quis Custodiet, Ipsos Custodes (Latin: Who will guard the guards?)

Today was that sort of day, but spending a few hours with a friend laughing and regrouping sorted that one out. Thanks Matey..

 

 

So, in the spirit of the long weekend and spreading the love, this is a Guessaurus group hug to y’all who read this blog, and I advocate for its spreading.

From Gishungwas blog, courtesy of KM (and her wanting to teach soMe people Kikuyu) Hutia mundu umwire niumwendete (Touch somebody, show (tell) them [that] you love them) – tukutendeleza (sp) (I actually dont know what that means, but is denoted by people putting arms on each others shoulders and rocking/dancing to Christian music, especially in church – right?

Special shout out: Sandman – Happy Birthday as of yesterday (takes a whole calendar year, in my book) – your phone call to say thanks was the best thing that happened to me on Thursday – you are special, man. Know that, Keep that.

And speaking of spreading love, where is the KBW card? Last I heard, it was languishing in Lancashire… any word MJY?

** I am stubbornly refusing to link all ..er.. links cos its late and my bed needs me – I might do so later, or I might not.

What do I get for making it easy for you?

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Collateral Damage, Hard-on and IT geeks

Where do I start? I’ll make this short, very short – but not sweet.. nah, No Sir

Come to work this morning all happy and full of beans (lol that is so true) and was on time and firing on all cylinders – mood was good, weather not too bad. After the usual routine of switch on, running to the loo and getting a cuppa, I try to log on to one of my systems to proceed with work.

Ha, hmm, something says ‘RESTRICTED

What?

Try something else – NOT FOUND!

Just when I am thinking that I came into work on the wrong day, I get an email from my opposite number at the UK Head Office. Guess what? Overnight, the systems were ‘changed’ and Guess What? He is just letting me know in case I am having problems accessing the system.

Say What?

Do not even get me started! I swear I went to the wrong school.. Has anyone up North heard of End user interface? Also, as >d® is asking, does the IT department think they run the company?

‘Tis gonna be a long day.

Oh and while we are living in this long day, why not delve into another segmented little rant of mine?

[Left with a] Hard-on:

We all know what that means – and I have to say (literally and figuratively) that its an unpleasant feeling. So what to do when the other party withdraws prematurely and you are left…er.. hard [and] or dry!
You can find a [scrape] goat to ‘ride’ the storm and make some end result visible, or you can just relieve yourself and sleep easy.

That is where:

Collateral damage comes in:

n : (euphemism) inadvertent casualties and destruction inflicted on civilians in the course of military operations

Like I said, its gonna be a long day!

I’ll be back when the current IT geek trying to upgrade me to Windows XP (not source of current problem, but ABOUT TIME TOO) is done with me!

It wasnt me :(

Coolangatta

I have ‘beef’ with my phone, the text messaging function to be exact. If it hadn’t already fallen and broken once accidentally, I would show it what it means to be bang‘ out of order’

See, my intelligent phone supposedly stores all the ‘strange’ new words that you use, so next time you type the characters, it will easily give you the option of using said word – just like any other phone you guys have, right?

Well, then there is the other option where when you type ‘home’ you have the option of good, hood, gone etc – you know the drill.

A couple of points of note:

In most of my texts, I use the words ‘in’ ‘go’ etc – and supposedly my phone is supposed to offer me the option of using that combination the next time I want to type that – eg, if I typed ‘in’ last, it will be the first option offered, as opposed to ‘go’ – which uses the same combination of keys. Nothing new or strange there.

Now, on that same combination, I always get offered the word ‘ho’ as the first option. Every time. Which to my knowledge I have never used either in a text message or in conversation with anyone. My phone, being the intelligent ‘thing’ that it purports to be, got that word from? And what is even more worrying is, why does it always come up – how many times have I had to choose the next word and bypass ‘ho’– what is wrong with this gadget? Moreso what is it trying to tell me?

That is not even half-bad – most of us use the word ‘cool’ right? Well, whenever I type cool on my phone, it has the elongated word ‘Coolangatta’ offered as an option – WTF? I mean, has anyone ever met anyone who says Coolangatta?

Until today I thought it was just an annoyance, until I googled said word and found it’s actually a place in Australia. Now, how? (KM, 2006).

Oh you haven’t heard the last of this – not even close. Now, if I type my name, right? Don’t dare laugh even if you cant help it… apparently, I am a Martian… :D :D :D :D :D Mara 55.. I mean, its alright to be labelled an alien by the world, but isn’t my phone supposed to be, like, on my side or something? And you don’t even want me to tell you what comes up when I type my Surname – my dad would throw the phone out of the window.

Somebody else’s name has options like: Narcotic, Nasal, Obscene, Mascot – :D :D I am soooo dead people :D

Not fair I tell you

I call this T-Rex – the rise of the machines (only Nick should get that reference)

Lets see who else gets it first.

So please share the most embarrassing things you have encountered while sending or receiving text messages..

Both ………isssssss a monologue and the reverse do not count, although they make everybody’s day…

Fiction, It wasnt me :(

KBW, Anonymity and Spreading the Love

:D :D :D

Hello my dear readers (and commenters, and Nick)

When KBW was started it’s aim was to unite Kenyan bloggers and give them a central home (KuL).The one thing we have in common is that we are Kenyans, and although we are united on KBW off-line most of us wouldn’t know each other from Forrest Gump.

I did not know any other blogger personally before I joined, but that has since changed. We now have blog meet-ups, personal interactions, and sometimes you read someone’s blog and you realise they sound familiar and when you contact them, Hey Presto – they are that ex you would rather they not know who you are (eh Farmgal?)

So I had an Aha! moment this morning .. (wavy lines and sinister music..)

Seeing as you lot voted me the most interactive blogger (Fanks! :D ) I decided to lift it a notch (and probably get that vote again next year) and do some different interaction.

My brainwave of the week?

I have a card – just a regular greeting card, that I want to collect signatures off as many KBW bloggers across the world as I can.

Process?

It is my belief that we each know at least one blogger personally in KBW, so what I will do is send this card to one of you, when you receive it, sign it and then send it to someone else and so on. And yes, I want it back, sooner rather than later.
(Think that birthday card that is passed round the office for people to sign, without the £5.00 for the present)

Rules?

 

1. Your anonymity is not under threat – you don’t need to put any personal details on the card – all I need is for you to sign your blog name on it – and preferably but not mandatory where you are based. E.g. Guessaurus, London England, NicholasGichu, Nyeri on Monday.

2. The easiest way for this to go round is to start with the nearest person locally – e.g. I will send this to the blogger I know their address in England, where it takes a day for surface mail to be delivered from one corner of the UK to another, so they will have it tomorrow, sign it and send it on to someone else, preferably in the UK so by Friday or Monday at the latest two or three people will have received and signed it. Then the last person this end can send it abroad – so lets do one country at a time if possible. I want it to go round the easiest route if possible.

3. Once you receive the card, buy an envelope (A4, it’s a little big) address it to the next person, and send it on (Du’h, I wouldn’t expect you to cross out the existing address and write the next one, although we cant put that past some of you! – and of course, it protects your anonymity.

4. It would be handy to ask the person you are sending it to before you do – not because they are grumpy and wouldn’t want to participate, but they may be going out of town, or country (Mutumia/Kipepeo), or even moving house thereby killing the whole thing. I want my card back.

5. Once you send it on, come back here and let us know so I can keep track of it (and obviously rouse those who are lazier than I am to keep it going (and I haven’t met anyone lazier than me yet).

6. If you can hand-deliver the card to someone (or a few), it will make the process easier and faster – and add a message if you are drunk and disorderly so we can have a laugh too! So for you doing meet-ups, if you have it, take it with you!

7. Non-KBW bloggers and non-bloggers (wananchi) can sign it too, so long as they reference you the blogger who passed it on (but take responsibility of posting it on please)

The whole point of the exercise?

There is a hidden camera in the card that records everything you do for the duration you have it. Ha!!

I just want to see how long it will take to globe-trott the KBW blogosphere in an envelope – as opposed to a mouse.

What happens if you don’t know anyone’s personal address on KBW?

Well, you have advance warning, go forth and procreate.. er.. sorryinteract.

 

Do not lose it, pour coffee or worse on it, fold it 20 times, give it to your nephew to play with, hide it, ignore it, pee on it, let the dog chew it, use it as a beer mat – or I am sending Marvin to get you!

Be afraid, be very afraid.

Anything I have left out?

Passion

Bliss

[Pic: Sunrise over Africa at 0600hrs @ 37000 feet: Taken By Guessaurus 14/04/06]

I love when you hold my hand
In public and private
Especially when I am asleep
You seek and find my hand
While the rest of you curve up into me
And I can’t tell where I stop and you start

I love when you kiss me
Small, intimate kisses
They make others envious and uncomfortable
You don’t seem to notice or care
There are so many moments I cannot account for
On account that I was so busy kissing you

I love it when you look at me
Just so, I feel like I am under a microscope
And that I am the most interesting thing
At the same time, I wonder what is on your mind
But a smile and a kiss later
I am lost, and don’t wonder no more

I love how you listen to me
That ‘accent thing’ doesn’t count
You make me feel like what I say counts
Even if I am venting and impatient
It’s like you hear my thoughts
And out comes a valid comment

I love when you scratch my itches
Damn, them mosquitoes are so sexist
And yes, its because you are black
But when you kiss them itches better
I could suck you inside me for sure
But then you would become mozzie fodder
And the cycle would be repeated all over

I love how you wake me up
Not when, but how
You seem to understand the whole process
That I will not ‘jump’ but need due process
Its like for that while, you are on my side
And the whole world will have to wait for me
I sleep, until you are ready to re-introduce me to the world
[Pic: Feet higher: :D just sitting on a plane having breakfast – 31000ft, 26/04/06 – Taken by Him]

I love how you ‘take charge’ of me
You don’t crowd, or cloud, or overbear
There is always you looking over
But never, and I repeat never, walking over
You leave me be, but quietly let me know
That you listened, observed, and has an opinion

I love your fascination with my skin
I have heard it all – how soft, smooth, silky
But when it comes from you, its like I have a new lease
And then you touch it and go: OH oh, how soft
Making me feel all soft and squishy underneath
Touch me baby, one more time

I love that you love me: totally different from normal
You are to me what I wouldn’t consider the usual
And moreso, when I know you are the real deal
Knowing you are there, whether near or far
Makes me want to hold you oh so closer
Trust you to make all my insecurities disappear

I love your intelligence – wow what a treat
You present a world and a way that is such a state
That most, oh what would they know, you are great
And you make me ‘wow’ a little bit more
Especially when I know that I know for sure
That u are the closest thing to heaven that I adore

Fact, Home

Renewed faith

It’s no secret that I place humans a rung below other animals for the way they treat each other, and nature. I know that I am one of them, but in the same breath I see in us something that animals and plants frown on on a daily basis. All of us would rather walk over someone to get something sorted – and I will not, for the sake of sanity (yours not mine) get into the political arena in Kenya, there are people best placed to discuss that – or even the whole ‘power’ thing going on around the world.

It’s very safe to say that I have very little faith in the human population, if any.

Having said that, in the last two weeks in Kenya, I have had people do and say things that has made me realise that all hope is not lost. There are good people out there, very good people. It doesn’t balance the equation, but we are holding the fort for the rest of humanity to get on board.

My visit to Kenya wasn’t a holiday as it were – I had some personal interests to take care of. A friend of my good friend W works for BA in Kenya. She was informed that I needed to travel, and in a 24hr window, she had booked me in, paid for my flight, and called me in the UK to confirm and give me the details. I hadn’t even paid for my flight, she did. She didn’t know me from Eve, didn’t know whether she could get her money back if I receded on my travels, had nothing to gain but went ahead and did it anyway. I had to leave work early to get home, get my stuff together, and be at the airport for the night flight home. On my arrival, we had to detour to her house where she had a ready breakfast for me, and a huge hug and a kiss.

Nothing in it for her, I had never for the life of me met or heard of her before.

Neither had she.

For the return flight, I had to make a few changes, which would normally incur a £50 charge from BA. A phone call, it was sorted. No questions, no charges. She was there when I checked in, called in someone to check me in so I didn’t have to queue, waited (for a minute) for a flight refresh to see what seats were available so she could allocate a ‘decent’ seat for me. Upgraded me to club class!!! And made sure that I was sitting alone – no interruption, no annoyances!

In JKIA ‘apparently’ once you check in you can’t leave the airport. In normal G-mode, I always fib my way out – especially when I have checked in 3 or more hours before my flight. She walks over to the guys and goes ‘ I am letting her out’.

Waited for me while I was late saying goodbye to my nearest and dearest. Sat and chatted with me while the queue abated – walked me to the flight and handed me over to the flight attendants.

All for a kiss and a hug.

She is my latest role model.

Susan – I wish there were more people in the world like you. I wish there were more people in Kenya like you. The world is a better place just because you are in it. You renew my faith in humanity just because! And not because you made my travels more comfortable or you made me feel better, its because, just because, you did it for no other reason than you are a person that does good things without expecting anything in return – you are my kind of person.

Uncategorized

Kaybees and Easter

coolest

(Insert an infectious giggle here)

I made the short-list in five categories – wow, wow, wow, I am so chuffed. Who knew eh? You know what, them KBW administrators should let rip on who voted for whom and all, and then I can see who all my fans are. On second thought, I don’t think that is such a good idea (some people would probably send goons to harass me knowing I didn’t vote for them, tihihi)

Now, I may not be Nick – I can’t do all them acceptance speeches – but I have been nominated in five categories so I will put horse before cat, sorry cart, oh is it the other way round, upside down – cart on horse, horse on cart – oh you do know what I am talking about – ok messing aside, I appreciate it.

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I would happily say that although what I write is mainly me just being me – mind all over the place and wanting to put pen to paper (ouch, wrong Century, fingers to keyboard), I do appreciate the interaction that ensues once I have written something and you guys come over to comment.

As Acolyte once pointed out, my blog is like a comfortable English Café where people can drop by for a nice cuppa and a chat – chill and then stroll home (probably not those exact words, but the same meaning). This blog is as much your home as it is mine – actually I prefer it if it were your home and I was the visitor – but I bet we all have to have homes to go to (hint hint)

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Digression and horsing around (where is the cart?) aside, I wanted to say Thank You so much for nominating me – it was a pleasant surprise and I hope you continue visiting and messing about as much as I do in your blogs. As for all those non-bloggers who visit time and time again, procrastinating starting a blog is not good, its actually fatal – and I know a few people that will bully you into starting one – don’t I Milo/KM et al?

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And being in the company of such great writers like the brilliant Keguro to name but one, I am seriously blushed (humbled, but it couldn’t have come out right)

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Now, all this wouldnt have happened without the brilliant work of the KBW admin team (Nick, are you still one?) and then there is the ever helpful, hardworking, patient Mr. Acrobatics (I am sure he has tired of listening to me go on and on) who designed this site (all I did was sit pretty) and Marvin for keeping our home warm and littered with all sorts of gadgets.

(This is starting to sound a bit ‘Gwyneth Paltrow’ and her Oscar award)

For more information on KayBees Nominations, visit this site

Congratulations too to all the others who have been nominated

Tomorrow is Holy Thursday (I was raised Catholic, dont know about now) so I want to wish all you guys out there a Merry Christmas ( :D:D I do get ahead of myself sometimes) ..er.. Happy Easter. Do not eat too many Easter Eggs – those things are bad for you – and have a restful time if you (like me) are having a long weekend.

See you on the other side – and oh… do vote, will you!

Uncategorized

Wait, wait…. WAIT.

…..

 

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I have been AWOLing out here in Nairobi and Mombasa on a working holiday for the last week and a half, and hadnt had time to go online and see what y’all been upto, but thanks to a text message from the sweet MentalAcrobatics, I had all of you in my mind at some intermittent moments.

So without further ado, I would like to bow all the way down and say THANK YOU to all you who voted Guessaurus the BEST NEW BLOG and me the Most interactive blogger (you know Nick calls it blog ho’ing, but he is just jealous).

 

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I would have loved to have Nicholas write my acceptance speech but we are at loggerheads for various reasons that I wont mention (And I aint saying he a gold-digger, uh, but he aint messing with no broke broke uh:D – I am sooooo dead, someone beam me back to London ASAP)

Congratulations though to everyone who won the Kaybees – now that we have reached here, how about maintaining it or next year we will be ‘zilizopendwa? ‘ :D

There is so much catching up to do and there is so much stuff to be dealt with here that would make a grown man cry, but I am holding my own on this one.

On a lighter note, I got to meet the very nice, soft spoken, coolMaitha for a few moments down in Mombasa – dude, I will hold you to that coasto dinner when I am next down those sides. It was very nice meeting you (albeit through some sinister force .. LOL I said I needed to be beamed Captain!!!)

I’m gonna be back to full G-Mode next week, so y’all keep well and Thanks again for your votes – this wouldnt definitely be the best new blog or the most interactive blogger without all you who both read and comment on Guessaurus.

Pictures, stories, complaints and compliments coming soon.