Letstoriesunfold ™

  February, love, valentine, flowers, catfish. I remember after the first month of 2008, long ago when there were just eight buildings in Nairobi being called skyscrapers, there was real love.  Young ones, I am that ancient. Yours truly had a young beautiful chille in college. This was way before touch screen phones, sorry, android phones were invented or introduced into the country or the world, and BlackBerry phones reigned supreme, followed closely by Nokia. They were the only status brand. Achana na nyinyi mnashindana na Vivo, Iphone 16+, Samsung Galaxy sth. Kitambo, Blackberry was the baddie of phones.  Right now, I know you may be asking yourself,  why is this relevant?  Well I didn't have a blackberry, but I had a ka sony ericsson. A phone worth having on all the dates and events I was in. So here comes January, I meet this fine yellow yellow and I know this will either be on my menu one time or full time. Either I date her for a short while, or I marry h...

            The sun was freaking hot and the sun had no issues baking y'all, ndio at least muive. I remember November December 2018 vividly, like it was yesterday. It was so freaking hot that ungejimwagilia maji kwa mgongo ingelia kama venye maji kwa sufuria moto hulia, shwaaaaa.  Anyway, I know the devil is next to you whispering in a smooth convincing tone, “enda swimming sahii,  kuna joto” Before you go, chill and lemme tell you about my first ever swimming expedition. Growing up, I was learning about useless stuff like insect anatomy and how the international space station works. So I missed out on childhood happiness like duff mpararo (I have only one experience) and bike races.  Back then I was 20 and somewhere in Machakos county with my gang, a place where there is a wide river that crosses our location. My whole gang is aware that I do not know the skill of fish. After all, fish do not know how to walk  (nisiskie mtu akitaja vill...

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...

Nataka niseme hii story initoke.  Yesterday, I was coming from a candle lighting occasion held at one of the estates along Mombasa road. The candle lighting was for one of my Gs who had rested on Saturday late at night. The news had hit me hard on Sunday morning, like a sledgehammer impact on a surface when I got to know. I am in the company of three people. One friend called Mulla, who writes spectacular articles touching on creatives, and two acquaintances. We had just arrived in town, and it looked like it had rained before. As we are all heading in the same direction, we decide to go board the same matatu, Super metro, at archives.  The matatu fills up pretty quickly, considering it's almost one am at night, and it's so damn cold. Funny thing, the conductor I can't see him. Where is he disappearing off to when the matatu is full? I can sense the growing frustration among other passengers who are also wondering, where has he gone off to?  As we all wait for the conduct...