Wednesday, 30 September 2015

My engagement - Our Honeymoon, Marriage and Pregnancy

In case you are still wondering. My engagement is still the talk of the village. As expected my melodramatic uncle, Saimoni Shimuchira Makwakwa is the author of most of the rumours, tales, truths and lies about my engagement, and subsequent marriage. And even before I meet my in-laws from the House of Mumbi to decide the length and breath of my dowry. My uncle, in his own wisdom or lack of it, has already announced that I will be the first descendant from the kingdom of His Majesty, Your Worship, The Great Nabongo Mumia to pay dowry without negotiation.

Monday, 28 September 2015

"I was sexually molested by a man of God, but I am now an agent of change"

The first batch of participants for The Douglas Waudo Mentorship Program
Saturday, August 15, 2015 around 9am. The golden Sun had emerged from its Horizon in the East with spectacular beauty. The rays of the blazing Sun penetrated through the curtains of my office like ghosty spears. Almost as if on queue, a group of 16 young chaps walked into the boardroom of my office along 1st Ngong Avenue, community area in Nairobi carrying an air of unbridled expectation. 

Friday, 25 September 2015

#NEWS ALERT: 2nd Intake of The Douglas Waudo Mentorship Program

There are 4 types of people on earth, those who: 
  1. Watch things happen 
  2.  Let things happen
  3. Ask what happened  
  4. Make things happen. 

Wednesday, 23 September 2015

If you need money to get her, dude she ain't the one

Its one of those ka-loose Saturdays. You busy minding your own business. Okay, if watching Season Two of How to Get Away with Murder counts, then yes, you busy. Just when Rebecca's (Katie Findlay) killer is about to be revealed. Your phone rings. Damn! You curse under your breath and ignore.

Friday, 18 September 2015

My engagement - How I met Missus

She wears her sexy little black dress with dotted yellow flowers 23-inches above her knees, so that it crops up her juicy yellow-yellow thighs when she sits down. 

Wednesday, 16 September 2015

Dear Marto...

With a South Indian accent she delivered the verdict coldly and authoritatively. My blood pressure was dangerously high. 

Friday, 11 September 2015

Don't send flowers to my funeral

Its Friday. 2:43pm. You have just had a heavy sumptuous lunch at your favourite joint that is a stone throw-away from your office. Its actually a kibanda , but since its elegantly branded with Coca-Cola corporate colours, and most of the chaps who patronise it come smothered in neatly ironed suits, you refer to it as a restaurant. Heck, sometimes you even say shit like, hiyo hotel yetu karibu na ofisi (Our hotel near the office).

Wednesday, 9 September 2015

My Engagement Drama - Here Comes the Bride...

Typically, on important things my heaven-bound mother communicates her wishes and clues with the assistance of parables, folk songs, Old Testament Biblical characters, Bible verses, hymns, prayers and body language. I have been her son for 34 years now. Trust me, I know and understand her pretty well. So, from the many conversations I have had with her regarding my engagement and the much awaited Pentecostal Church wedding, this is what I have been able to decipher from her of how she wants my wedding to be. 

Monday, 7 September 2015

Sweetheart, you are your hair

I never liked her to begin with. She had insulted her head by wearing some ugly shiny weave, which I guess due to its cheapness looked like it was dripping either of water or sweat. Her gory weave sat poorly on her miserable head like a misused cleaning mop or a bird's nest hurriedly constructed by a heartbroken single mother bird. 

Thursday, 3 September 2015

Satan, not today please

Her life story is manicured and full of the Biblical Abrahamic blessings: Poor family. Childhood and teenage struggles. Scholarship educated up to high school. Then sugar-daddy-supported till graduate level.

Tuesday, 1 September 2015

My engagement: The drama continues

Its been hardly a month since I proposed to Missus. Regardless of that, my heaven-bound, Scripture spitting, devil-cursing mother wants Missus and I to spiritualise our engagement with a Pentecostal church wedding as soon as it takes an elderly village cock to enjoy an orgasm.