BAck IN The DAys: WHen WE WEre BOys

The death of Hon. Michuki has in many ways taken my mind back to the village days. 

Many of us who grew up in pre-independence  Kenya *Ahem* will agree that life then was not a bed of roses. Growing up in the village was nothing short of baptismal by fire and this in a way prepared us for the roles we were to undertake in the young independent Kenya. Personally, the clean up ceremony every Sunday remains the most traumatic event in those days. From my #PenToPaper archives, I’ve fished out a piece that captures the ritual which my mother executed with zeal. Intertwined with the torture and roughness was the greatest love as only a mother can give. I’ve no doubt my fellow village alumni will identify. May the Good Lord Rest His Soul in Eternal Peace... 

LOve, LEgends... ANd THe NYeri WIves AFfair

Unless the devil sends me a memo stating that hell has found another fury different from a woman scorned and Heaven finds a different rage that has nothing to do with love and hatred, I might be hesitant to cast my net into the Nyeri waters if what has been making rounds in the media and social networks is anything to go by.

That woman who decided to make a baseball ball (does that even sound right? A baseball ball.) anywho, that woman who decided to make a baseball out of her husband’s head must have had some pretty good reasons for her actions but why wait till he’s asleep? *Spot the difference * 

BEfore THe COck CRows

Before the cock crows, this piece will be wrapped up, edited and uploaded on my yet-to-be-deflowered blog. Before the cock crows I’ll have sent the link to my fb/ twitter friends asking for their two cents on this. Before the cock crows, one Feddylicious blogger will have checked to see whether my words were marked. It’s seven in the morning and unless we are talking about the laziest cock east and west of the equator, all the crowing for this morning has been done. The uploading is definitely gon happen today albeit a sliiight delay. And to think my maiden blog post was about procrastinators and those who open blogs only to post once and never be heard again… Siiiiiigghh!!! I’m my own worst enemy. I think I should promise to spend a K on somebody every week this blog goes without a new post. That way, I will learn to put my money where my mouth is *trust me. I’m a kiu… eee Kenyan.*