Letstoriesunfold ™

You may or may not believe it, but I used to work in one of the big bus companies for long distance travel in Kenya as a conductor. The two drivers I used to work with, one was called Nduki Moto Makopolo and the other driver was Kata Funua Macharia and our route was from Meru to Mombasa and vice versa. It was a day like any other, but on this particular day, we bought our daily dose of mgox (mgox is what we used to call Mogoka) from the wrong guy. Huyu alikuwa anakaa elchapo flani sababu he would tell us tunaweza hata nusa hio mgox na stimu zitapanda.  I assumed that perhaps, it was the normal salesman hype lakini  WUEH! By 1900 hrs tulikuwa Embu. After kuchukua abiria wa Embu, safari ikaanza fiti, tukasema sherehe ianze. Our cockpit was one of its kind, sema kaportable mid speaker with bass abilities, madere wanaelewa. We switched off the passenger’s speakers and the one that was left was our “mziki” speaker. Nduki Moto had this flash disk that had everything hadi national an...

           Kuna hizi silhouettes za a popular figure zimekuwa zikinimaliza ajab, plus story ya Baltazar Engonga ikatokea, that legend, singlehandedly putting his country on the map. The last time I heard anything concerning that country was many years ago, when I was in primary. Kidogo nisahau kuwawekea story mfurahie.  Anyway, nilikuwa nimejipata nimepitia thread ya “in my prime” kwa social media, sikumbuki kama ni TikTok ama Twitter, a few days prior ndio nikakumbuka hii story, after kushangazwa na revelations za watu, particularly, what people's daughters did in their prime. I had an ordeal in the hands of my own mother twenty-five years ago that I have failed to forget. Back in the day kuna wale wazee walikua wakizunguka vitongoji duni wakinunua "chupa na debe" n old stainless steel sufurias. The pioneers of Mari kwa Mari, or old skull Mari kwa Mari.  (For context and for those who don't know,  Mari kwa Mari  are people who go aroun...

Under the TV I adorned the biggest boner I have ever seen. It looked like it was supporting the tv on its own, trying to rip off the shorts. Since I was a commando with baggy shorts, it protruded and looked like Pinocchio’s nose after telling several lies. It stood like a jousting lance. Shit!  I froze.  I pressed my thighs together, trying to hold the dingdong back in vain. Shit! What should I do? I panicked and almost threw the TV down.  (I might have dropped it,  but,  with my sperminator  at that angle  it could never have fallen down)  Mohawk had walked two steps ahead of me. He stopped, looked back and asked “Buddy, what is wrong?” “Kuna shida, njoo kidogo,”  When he came near I whispered,  “I have an erection.” He looked beneath the TV and then looked at me, while holding his laughter, he whispered,   “It looks like a rhino’s horn,  it looks angry too,”  After laughing for a while he added,  “I actually have a ...

This days, I don't eat meat, be it red, white, or multi colored like an army's gear.  Reason why?  Let me take you a few years back. I used to live at Naivas by then, a common hustler in that lakeside estate called Kihoto, kwa mukorino mwisho. Living in a single mabati apartment room posh enough to have a cemented floor.  When I say hustler, I mean hustler or rather what Mbusii says, “sufferer”. There are people who came through massively for me in my life a lot like Mama Njoki. Mama Njoki had certain a “Villa Rosa Kempinski” kibandaski, near the stage offering, and serving all types of meals.  At Mama Njoki's place you could even have a pizza if you fancied.  Let's chill on that for a moment. Back to the main story, I was a life member at Mama Njoki's, meaning it's where I took all of my meals. I could eat, without a coin to my name because I was trusted. You are wondering how I pulled it off,  aren't you? We used to supply the place with assorted foodstuf...

The following proceedings occurred when Anko Ice was still a bachelor and reckless. Any attempt to refer to this against Anko Ice in the future shall be construed as a declaration of hostilities and shall be met with the vilest kao remote-controlled magic if you know what I mean. Man must eat, and therefore, man must work. Anko finds himself in Tongaren, Bungoma, with two of his other buddies. We did our work, and after finishing what had brought us to Tongaren, Bungoma, and receiving our dues, we decided it was time to venture out and explore and experience “vitu za huku” .  We ended up in a pub that looked like it had seen better days. It had a sound system or as the locals called it “retio” with the worst sound quality you have ever heard, blaring out Lingala like whoever was singing was being strangled mercilessly, or as the layman would put it,  (alikuwa anaimba ni kama anapigwa ngeta) After a hearty meal of brown ugali and chicken with some mrenda, we started downing the...

I prefer carrying only a couple of stuff in my pockets. My pocket contents on an average day include the usual, an Android phone, a wallet full of ATMs of dormant bank accounts, and a large bunch of keys of long-lost padlocks with either bottle top openers, nail cutters, or whistles. Most of the time it was either I did not see the need for carrying a handkerchief or had no space left in my pocket for them. I felt that they were simply unnecessary in my workplace. Whenever I felt the urge to expel excess mucus I simply closed one chamber of my nose using the index finger and blew air.  It was an effective and laundry-free process to rid the nose of mucus (makamasi). It also had its challenges too, sometimes the mucus was not viscous enough necessitating manual removal then proceeded to smear it on walls, tree barks, parked cars, etc. Yesterday morning I boarded a matatu, where I decided to take a seat next to the window. I sat down quietly thinking of the economics of how the price...