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                   It's in the early evening; I'm somewhere chilling with my bro tunaongea ma one two three za life, biz na gigs, ju pahali life imefika sahii hauwezi afford kukaa isolated, utaumia. There's music playing, rhumba and some zilizopendwa.  After a while, my G hops on a call, and I start doing something on my phone; I think I was trying to land a client that I found, trying to make that shilling come home. You know what the Wahengas would say if they were in this time and age? Usipokaa sharp, shillingi haupati ng’o! The music is playing, but it's background noise, something to fill the silence. Time passes, nikiwa hapo chatting na client, ironing out details, my G akiwa bado kwa call. After a while naskia this song. I don't think I caught the name, but the lyrics are a bit catchy, na haijatoka kwa kichwa. Walikufananisha na Eliya Walikufananisha na Musa I have heard this song before; in my mind niko zile za hii nilisikia...
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Mteja 2

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Let's rewind to 1:00 PM when she had texted:   “Souley,  go to this place in Ngara,  ask for a guy called Musyoka.  He has the samples.  Just call me when you get there,  I’ll guide you.” Simple, right?  Now it’s 2:44. I’m here. I’ve found Musyoka. He’s chewing miraa, eyeing me like I’m slowing down his evening high.   “Oyaa,  niko na samples.  Si useme venye madam alisema.  Ni hizi ama zile?” I freeze. I don’t know. I was told to wait for her instructions. I try to call her again. Mteja. I text. Double tick. No blue. I even WhatsApp call her, desperate moves, you know? Musyoka is now shifting his weight like a man about to disappear. I try calling her again, muttering under my breath,  “This woman will be the end of me.” Then the rain starts. Nairobi rain doesn’t fall, it attacks. Boda guys scatter, hawkers scramble to save their goods, and I’m there, hunched under a mabati shade, holding a phone that won't ring, wit...
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Mteja.

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  8:23 am.   It's a few days after Christmas, unajua hizo siku zenye uko autopilot tu, waiting for 31st, upige nduru yako safi, or light up fireworks? It's the 30th, you would think nimetulia, at peace ju niko home, wrong! My mum ananipigia msomo on and on. I want to tell her, it's too early for this bana, chill! Najua nikiongea tu hivi, itakuwa a full blown argument, so I let her be. She is talking about stuff like mbona hauna bibi na watoto sahii?  She goes, nini unangoja? Angalia fulani, si mko age moja? Watu age yako wako na boma already! Tangu umalize campus, sijaona pahali hio masomo imekusaidia… She goes on and on chewing me off. In my head niko zile za Get back get back, you don't know me like that, talking a whole lotta shit I ain't trying to hear.  At that point, I even started regretting mbona nilishow up at home, at all, ningekaa kwangu tu. I'm getting pissed with each minute that passes from my mum chewing me off, mara comparing me to my cousins, ma...
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