Wednesday, 12 November 2014


Today I will take my time to pen a serious article based on an ugly incidence that happened this week. An incidence that should not have happened at least not within the magnitude it did if the Sexual Offences Act of 2006, The penal code and the constitution of Kenya are observed and implemented as they should be.

I know most of you do not consider yourselves perpetrators of sexual Gender Based Violence. That is something kina Maish. Omosh and Kama in Mukuru slums do, right? Well you are wrong and I will be telling you why you could be a sexual predator shortly.

So a woman dresses in a manner that you and your patriarchal thinking do not consider appropriate you opt to strip her? How has that solved the problem. If she was allegedly seducing you and making you hot, has that changed now that she is nude? Is your body that is obviously your god that you are born to serve and fulfill now cool? What about the women who are assaulted daily by the repugnant sight of sagging trousers that mostly unveil very dirty innerwear, Should we also act savagely and undress the unsightly dressed men? As a matter of fact why are you not undressing these disgustingly dressed boys? Why pick on a woman?  I assume her humiliation made you feel complete and confident in your in your manhood, you went back home (if you have any) roaring like a lion, the king of the jungle after a hard day’s work. You were welcomed to a sumptuous meal, a glass of wine and a good massage for a day well spent right? keep stripping women, the drawers of the sexual offences Act had you in mind.

As if that is not enough, somebody in the crowd had time to take a video of the whole travesty. Why oh why did you feel the need to upload the video on the internet, why? Do you think you are any different from the assaulters? How that phone was not even snatched, where are pick-pockets when we need them?

Then comes the third group, those sharing and re-sharing the video as they express their utter disgust and mortification with what the Embassava touts did. What is the difference between you and those criminals? Why are you opting to strip the poor girl over and over again? The most horrific thing would be if a river road guy quickly made a video and started peddling it as is wont to happen with such sensational occurrences. Mercifully they seem to be very sensible on this one.

The Constitution of Kenya, the supreme Law of this Land at article 25 (a) guarantees us of freedom from torture and cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment .The Embassava touts, the cameraman and the sharers of the video have jointly subjected this girl to cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment. Those shouting on top of their voices about rights having limitations, it would interest you to know that this is one freedom that may not be limited. It does not matter whether women or men are dressed ‘badly’ you may not infringe on their rights.

I am certain without a doubt that three quarters of the perpetrators of this heinous act braved the hot sun in the referendum to vote yes to a new constitution. Did people read what they were binding themselves to? Article 28 declares that every person has inherent dignity and the right to have that dignity respected and protected. So why did we decide to trample on her right to her God given dignity, something she was born with. Who gave us that right?

This document that we queued for hours in the scorching sun to pass tells us that people have a right not to be subjected to any form of violence from either public or private sources, we have a right not to be subjected to torture in any manner, whether physical or psychological. These rights cannot just be wished away when we want to. They cannot just be ignored especially when our tiny minds tell us that women are weak and it is our god given duty to discipline them. Were we passing a Law that we did not intend to be bound by or because it is a woman getting beat up and humiliated that is a small matter?

I am not as angry at the strippers as I am at the people online either on facebook. Twitter, various blogs and on you tube who keep sharing this video. I have made a choice not to watch that clip but I cannot help but follow the debates around it. I am left wondering, what if it was your sister, your mother or your daughter? Would you click that share button as fast as you just did on this particular clip? Don’t you see you have participated in the abuse of a woman? What have you just done to her potential as a person? You my friends are enablers of sexual gender based violence. You have given audience to perpetrators and made them feel victorious in their heinous act.

The statistics on Gender based violence in Kenya are worrying, and as the citizenry we must come out strongly to say no to GBV of any form. We must insist on the arrest and prosecution of perpetrators and the Law must act as a deterrent to this kind of crude and uncouth behavior. 


Sign the petition:

Thursday, 6 November 2014


Dear friends, I will soon be relocating to the Democratic republic of Congo, I know this will come as a surprise to many of you, but no, I shall not be pursuing the con men that Buyer Beware exposes, they do have a tendency of disappearing into the DRC don't they, and no I have not become a con too.

I came to this decision after reading a magazine article on how women in the DRC are killing themselves in the hope of adding to their sitting allowance. In disbelief I read of their struggles with swallowing a daily regime of concoctions that consist of Maggi stock cubes (these are not very different from Royco Cubes), C4 Syrup or pills, and raw ginger juice. other potions include dongo dongo Gombo a soup made from hibiscus. can you imagine the agony of swallowing raw royco?  what astounded me the most was that this mixtures are at times shot right up the rectum for better efficacy. That is how determined my sisters in Kinshasa are.


Of course back home in Kenya we have seen the growth of river road back street physicians, man those people have surely made a killing. Unlike DRC's butt enhancement module that is clear on the ingredients I have no idea what the magic substances used in the Kenyan treatment is. That is a trade secret well kept. 

On this perverted streets of Nairobi,I have had the unfortunate encounter of people including women take a pinch at my derriere just to confirm if it is real. you see the good Lord in His infinite wisdom blessed me with a rather generous portion of a bottom complete with hips to complement it. The times I have been asked if it is real are uncountable and I will not even mention the numerous suggestions that could be carrying my neighbour's behind too. I am grateful that I am now comfortable in my skin, the struggle has been long and real (that is a story for another day).

our very own Veyra Sidika

According to the numerous literature on this topic, men in DRC are no longer attracted to the thin clementine types (remember her from song of Lawino). They only have eyes for the well formed buttocks and properly filled out bossoms, as African women world wide are re-discovering their natural hair men are yearning for the true African proportions. 

Nastou Traore an Ivorian actress is said to be the catalyst of this body image change in the DRC

Now in DRC unlike here at home I will not be the object of curiosity surprise or shock but of admiration and pure desire, my behind will be celebrated, thus the reason I will make this move. Mine will no longer be a caricature or a Saartjes Bartmaan life. No, it will be a normal life with a normal body, there shall be no need to consume dangerous toxins through my behind because hey it is all natural.

I could even get a job consulting on how to acquire well rounded, firm and extra large buttocks. My target clients will certainly be all the desperate ladies in Bukavu, Kisangani, Lubumbashi, Mbuji-Mayi and of course Kinshasa where I will be based. good bye lunges and squats. 

I must refresh my French knowldge beyond 'Je ne parle Francaise' and I may need to buy more Koffi Olomide music and hook up with Piston to learn some Lingala that will be quite helpful in my new quest. 

Jezra M

Then I slap myself back to reality

Wednesday, 5 November 2014


Yes, this topic is probably exhausted by now, but I must tell you how Much I love Betty Bayo. Her songs inspire me, they touch me  deeply. Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I have an uncanny love for Kikuyu gospel music especially the kigoco kind. I discovered her quite by accident a few years back when I was a firm member of  sofa baptist. I feel the need to include that the majority of members of this faith are the greatest contributors to the 310 ministries' offering kitty. Now Betty was having a big launch for her album '11th hour' at St Andrews and she was being interviewed on television (details of the channel fail me). Her story was quite moving, a practical example of 'from grass to grace'. from a house-girl to a millionaire by God's grace. 
Her hit song 11th hour has severally pulled me from terrible places and anytime  I am in a thanksgiving mood, Siyabonga is the go to song. (I still love hymns best though).There is no doubt in my mind that Betty is a gifted songwriter and crooner.

That said, is she bleaching her skin?
What is it with women and bleaching their skin?
Could it be over exposure to potassium permanganate?  Now here is where I want to sneer at myself 'see your life!.'  I failed miserably in Chemistry, every time I unleash my KCSE Certificate I pray to God that He averts the eyes of whomever has been lucky enough to see that priced document. See there are several A's in it too. However that Chemistry totally refused me.

Maybe Mrs. Ncube should have tried harder, I would be rich. It is unbelievable that those substance x and y's that almost scarred me for life had so much potential. It is incredible I didn't even know any of those details about potassium permanganate until Sunday, that my friends is how people become victims of panda mbegu, I kid you not. Encourage your babies to love chemistry, they could be the next Dencias's complete with their own variations of whitenicious.  

Betty has continued making good music over the years, very admirable and commendable because many musicians are one hit wonders. There is some real anointing in there.

I however feel so sad, having listened to her initial testimony of how far the Lord had brought her that she will let a man drag her back down. I am no authority on matters marriage but I can say a word or two on love especially the misguided kind. When they say that love is blind, believe them because it is true. I am convinced beyond doubt that everyone around Betty could see that the good Prophet Doctor (how does a form 2 drop out become a Doctor? could I be wasting my time with these adult studies?) was a shady character, but no one was able to convince her. The first time I lay my eyes on him in one of his TV sessions (Sofa Baptist again) I knew without a doubt that there was a crooked fellow. His family background too pointed towards rot.

Listening to my dear Betty defend herself in almost all the media station this week I knew without a doubt that all this MOG (man of God) needed to do is tell his wife, the lovely Betty that Mohammed Ali is lying and using him to advance the Alshaabab agenda, then he will quote a few words from scripture most probably those touching on wives and subordination, heads and necks and she will be back lock and square. That my friends is the power of love. 
She will forget that he had become a breast physician overnight and that he had a magical radio station. If she never left after it was alleged her husband's love child had died in a mysterious fire, if she stayed put when David Okari from NTV did a similar exposee to the jicho pevu one or even with the constant rumours of her husband's indiscretions I doubt she will leave now. When time for her to leave comes, no one will need to tell her, she will simply walk. I pray that the career she built single handedly will stand the test of time.
Did she know about her husband's crooked ways? I don't know, she could have genuinely been blind, as I told you, love blinds.

I just hope she gets over this and comes back to writing music that blesses my soul.

Wednesday, 29 October 2014

Don't we all love us some Harvey. Get SUITED up.


In the early 2000's I was in love, deeply, blindly and passionately in love. Oh! Love is such a great emotion for a young woman it takes you to cloud nine, until 'wisdom' with all its snootiness checks in, in the thirties. Party pauper the thirties are.

Well my Adonis and I were just strolling down the road between St Francis Clavers and bus station, holding hands, escorting him to Machakos bus station (yes you read right), when from nowhere our reverie was rudely interrupted by a gigantic street man. This one had outgrown the title of street boy. In Kenya they are derogatively referred to as chokora. The weapon he used to confront us was a hot, steaming, well molded, light brown mound of fresh human excrement.

I always wanted to make a poop cake. So, my brother just turned 22 so I had a great opportunity! He loved it. Chocolate fudge/chocolate chip cake w/ chocolate frosting and toasted coconut. Cake covered in chocolate MMF.Toilet paper made out of RKT covered w/ MMF. MMF corn and plastic flies. .. Yummayyyy..

Now those were dark times in Nairobi, street boys ruled the streets with the help of their faecal matter. They would threaten to smear you with their ordure till you gave in and ended up parting with your precious belongings; the really mean ones would still soil you with the poop anyway. The tales of people boarding matatus reeking of city council toilets were common place. We walked in fear. We lived in fear. Dark times I tell you. Then someone came to the city hall, a new town clerk and he was ruthless, he cleared the city of street families, rumour had it many unidentified bodies were seen floating on the Nairobi River, but seeing as I am no rumour monger I shall not pursue this. At the same time a new government took over and many street terrorists were recruited into the national youth service. Suddenly Nairobi was the city in the sun again. As usual I digress.

On seeing the street man and what he was wielding understandably my feet turned into lead and even if they hadn’t I don’t think I would have made it very far. However I was not worried I had watched enough Mexican soap operas, read too many romantic novels after lights off to know how this would play off. My knight in shining armour would disembark his horse and face my attackers to defend my honour and I would melt into his waiting arms impressed by his bravado right. 

Well shock on me when my Adonis, my Knight, the love of my life took off at an alarming speed of lightning, leaving me with his luggage. The attacker and I were left staring at his retreating back  and anyone would have been forgiven for thinking we were on it together.  After a few seconds the assailant recovered and followed in hot pursuit, leaving me a forlorn figure on the road.

so much for swimming the oceans for me.

Damn mills and boons, damn harlequin romances, damn historical romances and damn you Escrava Isaura

Most certainly no one will catch a grenade for you so you better unlead your legs and run honey, run for your life as if there is no tomorrow. And hey do not get me wrong, we don't give up on love, expectations just become realistic. maybe I should have been thirty before I was twenty.

To be honest this was not my first encounter with these poop wielding hooligans, the first time I  was with either the high school Linda or the University Linda, details fail me (I love you girls). This one must have been a rookie, he let us go with sagely words that we should go study hard so that we can help him and his ilk in the future. we successfully managed to negotiate ourselves out of that one with no expectations of rescue from a superman. Lord, I hope he never recognizes me on these streets though.

Ladies and gentlemen, the dark times are back on the streets of Nairobi, we were expectant of grand things from our new county government but maybe they are too busy dealing with grander things than excrement brandishing hooligans. 
so people how will you react when they catch up with you?

Photo Credits; poop cake

Tuesday, 28 October 2014


Nyayo tea bushes in Irangi

It is that time of year again, my rural home of Kianjokoma on the foothills of Mount Kenya is awash with anxiety, excitement, and trepidation all rolled in one. You see, the bonus has come! As per Kenya Tea Development Agency (KTDA), small scale tea farmers countrywide will this October receive a total of Ksh 30.5 Billion as second payment otherwise known as bonus. Kianjokoma will share in this windfall, yeah!!

These couple of months leading unto Christmas was a most exciting time to visit Uma and Gaka (grandfather and grandmother) back in the village. Oh the air was festive. I swear the air was different, it was fresher it was tepid. Goats and sheep lost their lives as people gave thanks to their bodies. Christmas in the village was something I looked forward to all year. The chapatis made during that time were the tastiest ever, they still are. I kid you not. I honed my cooking skills from bonus related festivities, my chapatis are legendary. Oh Bonus!

a plate of chapatis

Before it checks in though the bonus is met with anxiety and many trips to the factory or bank to check on whether the money has been deposited in individual accounts. There is also anxiety over how much per kilo the tea sold and woe unto any farmer's representative who happens to be on their path. He will be queried and badgered about the fall in prices, the delay in the deposits, he will be threatened with no re election in case the prices are not satisfactory, explanations about the Mombasa auction, frost and what have you just don’t wash. I hear this year the prices have fallen, unfortunately for the farmer’s representatives i.e. directors it is an election year. But I digress.
part of this writer's family farm in Kianjokoma

 It is not odd during this season to see old men clad in ill fitting suits and of ill discomposure hanging out in restaurants and bars (the kind with neon signs that scream 'bar and lodging') in the major towns, mostly Embu town, Meru, Nyeri, some even go as far as Thika. More often than not, draped on their arms will be a woman who reminds you of Clementine the one Lawino shares her husband with;
The beautiful one aspires;
To look like a white woman;
Her lips are red-hot;
Like glowing charcoal;
She resembles the wild cat;
That has dipped its mouth in blood;
Her mouth is like raw yaws;
Tina dusts powder on her face;

And it looks so pale....

Please note that these Clementine look-alikes are rarely locals, bonus brings with it local tourists from far parts of Kenya. Thus the trepidation from the long suffering wives and children who have spent all year being beaten by the bitter cold of the region endangering their health as they pick tea every day. In fact some are known to hang on the patriarch’s coat rails as he goes to collect the bonus so as not to miss out on this annual boom. Without a doubt if you miss to catch him, the smell of chapattis in your homestead over Christmas will be a far fetched dream. If this delicacy does not grace the plates, the silly children will always blame the mother who will take it because she can never discuss their father’s misdoings. In fact to the children he remains a hero until death. The sons aspire to be like him even when they have no school fees in January after the bonus boom. The coolest thing for them is to wake up every morning survey the land boundaries and then disappear to Kianjokoma town center. The daughters aspire to marry a man like their father and hopes to God not to end up like their mother whose back has bent from the heavy duties and on whose forehead there remains a permanent furrow dug by the heavy tea basket that she has to carry as she picks tea and as she takes it to the collection center.

Two leaves and a bud
It therefore is no surprise that the women grow fat, more beautiful and vibrant after they are widowed. They can now access and control the means of production and on top of that the whole family can benefit from bonus. 

To the good men gone ahead of us and those still around that ensure the Christmas chapati smell will not die in the villages of Kianjokoma I say cheers.

Kiriru Farm

Photos courtesy of: Kianjokoma wako online


Photo: This is such a perfect quote for the single-in-your-30s era of life. I am several years removed from my "paint the town red" days & yet still haven't reached my "married with kids" I'm somewhere in between. I'm not who I once was, but neither am I who I ultimately hope to be (among many other things, a wife & mother). So here's to those of you who are in the era of BECOMING with me...with all of its beauty & uncertainty & messiness & magic. Happy Monday! :)

Sunday, 26 October 2014



Today, I happened to be hanging around a Ugandan mothers' online forum when a post of pure righteous outrage popped up, accompanying it was a photo of a beautiful African lady donned in a crown and the Miss Uganda sash, so imagine my amazement when I realised she was not being celebrated for the fete but rather being cursed for her alleged failure in the looks department. 

On various other platforms she was ridiculed and jeered and told all she was good at was agriculture (as if agriculturalists cannot be beautiful), and hey she is a former mushroom and poultry farmer A mother even stated that in the coming years her house girl could as well participate in the pageant (as if the house girl is not human). The furor that met her winning was unjustified.

The fact that the forum that was so full of indignation and dislike for human physical “ugliness” is a mothers’ group is worrying. What are we raising up our children to be, children do not learn from what we tell them but rather from what they perceive. Impute discrimination and shallowness in your child this early in life and rest assured that they will never depart from it and will have a hard time in life seeing as the ‘ugly’ people with brains run the world. It must be noted that on top of her new title and farming one Miss Uganda has studied computer engineering and science at Makerere University.

This is not a uniquely Ugandan problem though. One of the reasons that bleaching creams and procedures sell so fast amongst Africans is because of such reasoning. Of course if Miss Uganda had been light skinned people would have noticed her beautiful eyes, her gorgeous set of teeth and her bewitching smile. But alas, because these attributes were enclosed in her dark skin she is being defined as ugly and few are even bothered to learn her name. Granted there were claims of dirty business by the judges but the main issue from what I have read so far was how unpleasing to the eye their representative is.

This begs the question of how we define beauty

The stereotype of what beauty is must be why we East Africans consistently miss out on that title,

Ladies, let us stop bringing other women down. If you cannot do it or are not qualified, sit back and watch those who can do it, do it. In fact cheer them on, that way you will have your own cheering squad when your time comes.

Alek Wek ;The Southern Sudanese beauty has been described as the first black model whose looks did not conform to Caucasian aesthetics, the first with an uncompromising, sub-Saharan beauty.

Ajuma; The accomplished model is about to launch a cosmetic and natural skincare line for women like herself. She hopes that her products will inspire her contemporaries to love their own instead of attempting to alter it through artificial means, such as by skin bleaching.

Congratulations Miss Leah Kalanguka.
The sky is the limit.
Thank you for not letting societal perceptions hold you down. 
Thank you for treading the path where few dread.
Remember,others walked this path before you. Thank you for helping uphold the true African beauty.

Flickr - buddha - UggBoyUggGirl

The Four Types of Friends According to the Buddha

Young man, be aware of these four good-hearted friends: the helper, the friend who endures in good times and bad, the mentor, and the compassionate friend.
The helper can be identified by four things: by protecting you when you are vulnerable, and likewise your wealth, being a refuge when you are afraid, and in various tasks providing double what is requested.
The enduring friend can be identified by four things: by telling you secrets, guarding your own secrets closely, not abandoning you in misfortune, and even dying for you.
The mentor can be identified by four things: by restraining you from wrongdoing, guiding you towards good actions, telling you what you ought to know, and showing you the path to samsaric heavens.
The compassionate friend can be identified by four things: by not rejoicing in your misfortune, delighting in your good fortune, preventing others from speaking ill of you, and encouraging others who praise your good qualities.

courtesy of:  Waking Times