Letstoriesunfold ™

Hii Nairobi kuna watu tofauti, for example, there are those that work hard, those who don't, those who wake up to chase the bag, and those who wake up to chase the bag that you have been chasing.  In the heart of Nairobi, under the shadow of the bustling city, my friend Alan, a tech-savvy software developer with a penchant for pranks and a sharp wit resided. One lazy afternoon, as the sun dipped below the skyline, painting the city in hues of gold and crimson, Alan's phone buzzed to life with an unexpected call. "Hello,  tunakupigia kutoka Safaricom Customer care,"  the voice on the other end responded with a confident, almost rehearsed tone. Alan, intrigued yet cautious, decided to play along but with his own twist. "This call is now being recorded,"  Alan announced, his voice steady, betraying none of his amusement. There was a brief pause, the kind that hangs in the air like a question mark, before the scammer continued, his voice now laced with a hint of...

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...

          A lone figure, cloaked in darkness,  stalks through  a foggy and deserted part of the Nairobi Central Business District.  A chilling wind howls, and the only sound is the lone figure footsteps puncturing the eerie silence. A dilapidated building looms in the distance, its windows boarded up and its door ajar. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of decay, dust, and the faint sound of two heartbeats.  On arriving at the dilapidated building, the figure pauses briefly at the entrance, it's breath misting in the cold air. A sense of unease washed over them as they peered into the darkness towards the entrance of the abandoned building from where they are hiding.  The wind howled louder, carrying with it a chilling whisper that sent shivers down their spine. Their blood ran cold as they realized that they were not alone in this desolate place, but with a deep breath, they muffled any sounds they might have made, trying as hard a...

   👻 booo! 👻 Ghafla bin vuu,  mvua When boarding this matatu, the tout said to me sweetly  “mrembo, wee kaa starehe hapa kwa kiti yangu, nitakaa mbele.” I think, oh well, why not, how kind sir. I shut my umbrella and get in and he closes the door, again and I think, how chivalrous. Little by little, water starts trickling and then pours on my left side, and now I think, how cunning. The lady infront of me has her umbrella strategically placed to cover her left leg. There's a drenched gentleman at the back who's been yelling profanities I cannot say. Do I say, when it rains it pours.  As the memory played in my head, I realized your life can change in a snap, like Nairobi weather.  Here I was, past the talking stage, in the we doing this stage in a relationship with someone's son. Who I couldn't have met if it wasn't for the cards that had been played by fate that day, the tout offering me his seat, me being drenched by the water trickling in little by li...

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...

Continuation  from HOUSE ALWAYS WINS 1   Something snapped inside me, I came at him quick, a kick at the groins to buy me ample time to calculate my next attack, some quick attacks here and there, while trying to evade his blows and kicks. Some kicks and blows from him found their way to me, blinding me for a moment, other times forcing me to connect with solid ground eating dust. It was now between me and him, adrenaline pumping, fists flying, dust swirling.  Right there and then, I was certain that was how I was going to go.   The next moment I decided to have a taste of gambling was one year after legally turning into an adult. I had one clear cut objective with gambling, to use it as a means to chase the bag, gunia or mtungi.  I wanda! Like all things in life or in a game, we moved to the next level, gambling at casinos. Movies and films make gambling in casinos look easy.  I could have gone to Hades happy, swing by and said hello to Dedan Kimathi, show...

The patient monitor showed Ambrose pulse and vitals as he slowly gained consciousness bit by bit. He sensed that there seemed to be somebody in the room with him because he sensed movement and someone speaking but he could not comprehend what the person was saying. He tried to find out who it was, by turning his neck to check but it was futile attempt plus the pain that accompanied the effort was too much even for the heavy pain killers that were continuously being infused in his body by a drip.  His mind raced, various thoughts rushed to him at once. As much as he could, as much as he tried, he could not block out those thoughts.  Where was he?  Did his wife hire someone to finish him off quietly? Had he been fired from his job? Had news had reached the HR?  Was she gloating over his misfortune.  What the hell had happened?  It all came flooding back to him gradually at first then it greatly intensified. From the HR's smirks to the house girls tears all th...

His office phone and mobile rang almost simultaneously from security guards. He decided to pick up the mobile call first.  “Boss,  bibi yako alikuja na wamama kumi,  wakaingia kwa..."  The call dropped. The office line rang again. “Kuna mgeni anasema ni bibi yako,”  Makori at the gate said.  The chairman  needed clarification. He told Makori, the guard he never got along with, “tell her to call me,”  The house girl called. She had been chased from home by the evil woman and a battalion of women in choir uniform. She was also worried that she couldn't locate her periods either. The Lady HR was in cahoots with guards to gather intel on who came late and who left early, to reward them accordingly. Makori, her chief snitch, reported about the distressed wife of the Man of God, Ambrose.  Excited about potential breaking news, she rushed to receive her.  Ambrose called the home guard first to get the full incident.  “Bibi yako,  amek...

Food inspires stories. Good food however  create great stories that transcend millennia. Guys, where do you think the term, kula story came from? Anyway, where was I, aaah yes, we were talking about food.  Picture yourself navigating through the labyrinth. In the alleyways and side streets of Nairobi or any other place, in particular, you may think of, it could be in Kenya, somewhere in Africa, Asia, Europe, the Middle East, North or South America, the aroma of fresh and expertly prepared dishes wafting through the air, beckoning you like a siren's song.  I was at this interaction at  Baraza Media , a very dope, and serene space to be at I can tell you, There was an activity going on there that I  attended and was very much engaged in. Paul Otieno, also known as Pau Shinski, someone proficient in what he does was sharing a few valuable insights on how to navigate the industry, and practical tips on how to showcase your creative work to potential clients and mone...

I have told lots of stories, and I have heard lot's of stories over the years, but none could prepare me for this story I am about to tell you.  First I'll have to ask you,  which is most bizarre job or contact,  you have ever done, for money? To most people, I am the guy who has been in some crazy hustles, but compared to my guy, Kinyanjui, that is just a tiny handful of some sand to a whole beach. I don't think there's a hustle in this world that Kinyanjui hasn't been to.  If it isn't washing old people's bums, he's out there brokering property, trading stocks, professional mourner, eating contests, extras in Kenyan movies, in corporate tenders, let me pause it at that because the list is quite endless. We were chilling one lovely Saturday, as you well might know Saturday is for the boys. Banters against who's team was thrashed and is likely to be thrashed on the weekend, then the conversation shifted to crazy shit people have done, guess who was a...

 It was late in the evening. The sun has set couple of hours ago, and the sky was dark. You know it's  one of the nights the moon is afraid to show it's face, maybe it has glanced upon the future, and seen it can't bear to witness what is about to unravel. Simiyu's wife Lucy, is lying prostrate on the ground while Simiyu, her husband standing in front of her. Lucy is crying, you would to if you would be in her shoes, while Simiyu's face remains expressionless, devoid of emotion.  Let's rewind it  just a bit  so you can all connect the dots. Continued from Simiyu Part one Jioni ikafika, siku haikuwa na kasheshe ama ngori mingi. After kumalizia shughuli kadhaa, nikavutia Simiyu nijue anatokea saa ngapi ndio tuongee, nijue ni ngori gani ilinifanya anivutie at the break of dawn. Venye nilivutia Simiyu, nikimsho tupatane pahali kwa wazee tukunywe kikombe, perhaps ya supu.  Simiyu akanisho Zi, nivuke kwake, hapa sasa nikaanza kutense mambo haiko fiti.  Mimi ...

In the words of Kamande wa Kioi, before you die, you see many things. It doesn't sound wise when you say it in English. The queen's language waters it down very much. Try saying it in Kikuyu. Sagely!  Now, in 2015, Ochi and I were roommates in Kariobangi South by circumstance. I was fresh from campus and jobless and he was starting a business in Nairobi. So, naturally, we were broke, you see how it was by circumstance, don't you?  We got a bedsitter hapo tu Kwa Mbao. Kwa Mbao is a stage in Kariobangi South, it has the best Mutura East in of Eastlands. Hayaa, Ochi, one Sato told me that he had been invited for a bash in Kahawa West. We decided to go. You know what is written, that where two or three are gathered, there is a fellowship and at times a swallowship. That day, we knew we wouldn't cook. We got to the bash. Kumbe it wasn't bash bash. It was bash of gùchogia mwana. Look for a Kikuyu for that translation. Haya, we were ushered in and offered seats. Mimi, with...