We are going to call him the last guy. He might not even be the last guy. I sound so dramatic saying the last guy you know. It’s like that thing I say about my crush in class six who nicknamed me Tinkerbell. I didn’t have a crush then. And Tinkerbell well you all know Tinkerbell. If you don’t know Tinkerbell just pretend you do. The difference between the one who nicknamed me Tinkerbell and the last guy, one of them actually exist.

This are the things the last guy taught me about love, life and women. It’s funny he knew so much about women and he has never been female. Or was he transgendered? I don’t know.

The last guy taught me that women were created for only two things; to bleed and clean. If you like me you probably suck at both. I suck at bleeding because I’m moody and it’s really painful. Sometimes I cry and I’m usually a bitch. And let’s not even start on the cleaning, I just don’t suck at it but i also hate it. Just the thought of cleaning makes me sick. So generally I was a terrible human being. According to the last guy.

The last guy taught me that’s there’s nothing like unconditional love. Love in itself is a condition. Terms and conditions are applied. Everything you give is directly proportional to what you will receive but sometimes you receive twice of what you giving. As simple as that. Nobody ever reads the terms and condition, y’all always agree without reading. Maybe that’s why the divorcé rates are high and friends with benefits is trendy. Everyone is just looking out for their hearts to avoid heartbreaks. Or that’s not why FWB is trendy?

The last guy taught me that nothing last forever and someone can just walk out on you. No explanations. No reason. Nothing. They wake up one day and decide to leave. They dump you the way they order pizza. Give me pepperoni extra crust. Lol … That’s the most terrible analogy ever. I’m feeling really creative this evening.

The last guy taught me that having a two heads was a pass for being an asshole. His word was final. He even advised me on my future relationships. That if I ever wanted any relationship in future to work I better get my little head around that. If I don’t submit then I better brace myself for life alone. Probably become a cat lady. My DNA ain’t wired to take bullshit from anyone. And I guess this is why I couldn’t get my head around this lesson. It’s both a blessing and a curse. It depends who you ask.

The last guy taught me that people are selfish. No one really cares. And that people are just using each other for their own selfish reasons. Once they are done using you and they are done with you. Sometimes it’s a win win and sometimes it’s not. “Analyze the situation and ensure you benefiting.” That’s what he said.

The last guy taught me the art of manipulation. And only a student can defeat the master. Before he knew it I was way better in manipulation than he was. This days when I’m bored I manipulate people just because I can. Of all the things he taught me I guess he regrets this the most.

The last guy taught me that submitting is another way of being in control. His philosophy was simple, “if you allow people to do things to you they are actually doing it to themselves.” They think they are in control but you are letting them be in control. Whose really in control?

The last guy taught me the art of listening. Not to what they are saying but to what they are not saying. It took me too long to actually master this but after that I’m unstoppable. “Always listen to what they are not telling you. Ignore the words, people lie all the time”

The last guy taught me a lot of lessons. But most important he showed me how less he thinks of women. He never thought we were actual human beings with feelings and emotions. And I guess this is the biggest mistake we all make. He thought we are objects just like what most of my female friends think that men are just subjects. This topic of male and female can actually fill a book. The point is, ‘the world will be a much better place if both male and female treat each other like real human beings. Before then we will forever be at war. Unending war.’


Learn something new every day

they say.
And this year,
I’m accepting all reasonable advice. 

Think I’ll become an expert
at the magic of a lullaby.
Or the aerodynamics of a butterfly
flutter-flying by.

I will carefully memorize
my own content sighs
and savor each and every one
priceless hug from my soul. 

I will educate myself
on the inner workings of the clock
and instead of trying to either hurry things along
or stop time from ticking altogether
I will tuck each moment quietly in my heart

I will learn to be more patient
with my brethren
my true love
my friends
the people I meet along the way
but most of all,
with this girl I greet in the mirror each day.

I will calculate and contemplate
consider and excogitate…
The number of bubbles needed to make the perfect bath.
The circumference of the perfect chocolate kiss.
The weight of the perfect smile.
I will ask more questions
and really listen for the answers.

I will write more, laugh more, live more.
Quietly. And without demands or deadlines.
I will ponder poetry,
visualize verse
weave silly nothings from words I love
for the sheer joy of seeing them dance across a page.
I will carefully research my own dreams
take my own most tattered pieces by the seams
forgive my body
use my head
and learn each dream
by heart.
Yes, this year I will take a crash course
in contentment,
and studiously cram for life’s final exams. 

But where, oh where, to start?

I will listen for Contementment’s still, small voice,
Her whispers in the madness.
And this time
I will take notes.



There’s a possibility you don’t look forward to spending 2016 with me. And nothing motivates me more than that. Just so I can prove a point you know. I’m not an easy girl to get rid of. You have done this before but like a tick I stick. Not in a parasitic kind of way. Well, I just want to prove a point anyway. You push and I pull. Until the rope breaks I’m not stopping. This can go on and on to infinity and beyond.

You don’t try to impress me. Most people do that. They want to be in my good books. You really don’t Care. You speak your goddamn mind. Sometimes it’s a pain in the ass but I can live with that. I rarely get NO from people. Looks like it’s the only thing you serving. I can as well get used to it.

I’m looking forward to hearing your strange choice of words. You always take me by surprise. A girl can use that once in a while.

I’m looking forward to being challenged intellectually. The way you point out flaws in my theories leaves me in awe. Your vast knowledge is something to be admired.

I’m looking forward to losing arguments. Well, not many a people can win an argument with me. I like how you argue, you argue to win. It doesn’t matter weather you are right or wrong. And that’s the kind of energy I need this year.

I’m looking forward to being ignored. Unpicked calls and text messages that go unanswered. That’s the kind of negative energy that motivates me to write. Thank you very much for doing that BTW. It’s twisted I know. But you are a necessary evil.

I’m looking forward to push your limits. Just because I can. You hate pancakes? We are eating pancakes everyday. Why not, it’s fun. The sad thing you don’t hate pancakes. Is there anyone who hates pancake? Is hating pancakes even a thing?

I’m looking forward to the look in your face when I start playing my music. It’s amusing. The fact that you haven’t wrapped your head around this is perfection. My music isn’t weird BTW.

I’m looking forward to hanging out with you. On our good days. They are very few. We have a lot of bad days. But I enjoy the good days. It’s usually worth the Wait. It’s worth the pain. You know what I’m saying.

I’m looking forwards to being your number last. Always the last to get bad news and good news or whatever event that happened. You could have Beyonce in your House and I will know about it ten years later. How can one not fancy that?

I’m looking forward to 2016. Just because you are in it. So far so Good. This is going to be one emotional rollercoaster year. I just braced myself and all the safety nets secured. I’m ready, just serve me whatever you feel like. I will eat every bit of it.

Happy 2016.


Someday you will have to decide whether it’s him you want or my life. It’s getting pretty confusing this past few months.

Well, I know I’m great with your child. I’m good at playing mommy you know . Sometimes I think I practically raised my little brother. My maternal instincts were developed pretty early.

Every time you drop your child. We always have a great time. We read books together. We go for walks and we watch stupid movies. We laugh a lot. I don’t over do anything. I don’t try to be liked. It just happens. We fight but we never go to bed angry. I’m talking about your child here. Now you know why he looks forward to the weekend in my house.

He doesn’t refuse to eat vegetables. I was shocked when you told me he doesn’t eat vegetables at your house. He is just such an adorable kid you know. He also washes his clothes in my house. I don’t know why you keep saying he refuses to do this things in your house.

He is pretty good in PS too. He beats me every time. He says he plays alone at home. That’s pity you know. I feel bad for him.

I don’t have a problem with your parenting skills. You can raise him as a couch potato or hardworking or a smart guy. I don’t care. He is your son after all.

I have seen how you look at me when you bring him over. I can’t seem to decide though. Is it envy or pure hatred? Your son has sensed too. He tells me everything you tell him about me. Are you trying to get him to hate me? I think you should try harder. I’m likeable you know. When I choose to be. And with your son, I chose to be likeable.

It wasn’t hard. I just became mommy. Something you have no idea how to be. You don’t help him with his homework. And all you do is buy him more games and DVDs as much as you can. He has watched more movies in his life than I have my entire life. He recommends me movies this days you know. You Make him eat microwave food through the week. You can’t cook? Well, I don’t either. But I cook when he is around. You should try this sometime.You don’t even tell him goodnight.  Then you wonder why he likes me? Come on love. Try being present for once. He might just love you. Stop being bitter about his father.

Well, the two important men in your life love me? No. That’s not true. Only your son does. His father still loves you. I have seen it in his eyes. More than once. You the one who carried his child, remember? You know what infuriates me? You don’t see the obvious. You have power over him that I don’t. But you don’t see that, just like you don’t see your son needs you. You are a fool.

You can have both of them if you stop hating me so much, maybe. You can get your happy ever after if you try a little bit.

Just change a few things. Start being present and stop trying to be me. And start hitting the gym, get sexy back. Change your wardrobe. Stop calling him in the middle of the night crying. It’s pathetic. Quit drinking every day. Just get your sorry bitter ass healthy.

I will walk away. I promise. Once you get your shit together . It doesn’t mean I don’t love them, this means I pity you. Plus, I’m nice. I also have dreams to chase. Mine were never in the eyes of a boy. My dreams I mean. And also, your son deserves to have both his parents around.

This is me giving you a second chance. You better not waste it. Maybe it’s your last shot to be happy. Don’t  sabotage your dreams by show him this letter. There’s nothing I’m losing though. You have something to loose.

He breaks up with him for not loving him enough to the extent I’m trying to get him back with the mother of his child. I walk away a free bird. He hates you for being weak and pathetic. I get my freedom and you stay wallowing in misery. Your call.

Be brave. Be strong. Get help. Grow up. Get your shit together. Let go of the past. And you will get your boys back. Just like old times.

“Woman to woman? ” you have to decide if you want your boys back or my life.

Think about it.


Maybe, maybe you should only marry from your tribe.

Would you marry anyone from a different tribe? Yes? No? Maybe? Or you are thinking, whose evening asking that in this time and age. Yes, I’m asking. It’s a big deal. If you are still reading then you kind of agree with me.


I have had this argument with several of my girlfriends and my mom. I didn’t argue with my mom though, I brought up the topic and she out right agreed with me.

Well, I’m no pure breed myself. Now you wondering how did I become so tribal myself. For a half cast I should be campaigning for inter marriage of course. But I’m not. I stick to what I know, and that’s definitely not my mom’s culture. I know almost nothing about them, and the few things I know gives me a maybe. So maybe I will consider. The rest of the 41 tribes, no thank you.


I know how tribal I sound right now. Forgive me for that. But, there’s no other way. It’s not dating we are talking about or partnership or something light. This is MARRIAGE. It’s supposed to be forever, I’m using the word supposed lightly since divorces are trendy this days. But, I want my first marriage to be my only marriage.


I don’t want to argue with my husband about food. Like how we prepare food in my homeland is definitely different from your homeland. Food is forever. Someone we share the same culture would be  50% ideal. We can eat ugali and mursik daily without oppressing anyone.


Then there’s this thing of social interactions. How to behave in social places and how boys and girls should associate  There’s a clearly defined roles for men and women. There is even a handbook for successful marriage somewhere. It’s unwritten though.  He is the head and I’m the neck. My job is to support him. He leads, I follow. The end.

I also don’t want a circus for my engagement. For us it’s simple, he shoes up with wazee to ask my hand in marriage. A friendship has began. They set a later date in future and they bring dowry. They should also come bearing gifts, nothing complicated. A few lessos for my aunties and oil. My family is supposed to prepare some mursik and cater for the party. The wedding is up-to them. Clear and simple.

In case I’m pregnant or have kids prior all this, then they will pay fine. In case my dad didn’t pay dowry for mom, then they are not going to pay anything. End of story. And our dowry they don’t start counting from the first nappy my parents bought. No, just three and a half cows. It’s an appreciation not buying and selling of goods kind of circus. Have witness pretty dramatic pre weddings from different cultures.

Here is another thing, divorces are as minimal as none where I come from. He can marry someone else if he wants. But our union is forever. We are bound forever by the oath. Ask anyone from where I come from. If things are not working out, my husband will send me to shagz to take care of things and as a goof wife I will oblige. Conflict solved. It’s not a game of power. Until he see fit when to join me.

And many other reasons. Why would I want to start getting to know someone and also learn his way of life? That’s frustrating. I would rather stick to only one frustration, getting to know him. Of course there will be compromises on the way, but it won’t be about culture now, would it be? Maybe I will learn how to stay with the toilet seat up or I will just be closing after him. Compromises!

And many other reasons like sticking to what I know. Why would I want to start getting to know someone and also learn his culture? That’s frustrating. I would rather stick to only one frustration, getting to know him. Of course there will be compromises on the way, but it won’t be about culture now, would it?be? Maybe I will learn how to stay with the toilet seat up or I will just be closing the toilet seat after him. Compromises!

My mother is definitely right. Don’t you think? Because mommy is always right.

87 years old imprisoned, tax payers are happy.

I’m very proud of the ones guarding our constitution. They are sticking by the book indeed. They are working day and night to protect our constitution, maintain law and order. Just so we can all sleep well at night. Especially when it involves stolen two chairs worth 1000 Kenyan shillings.


That was a clean job done. As a tax payer I don’t know where to start from, appreciating you. I’m sure every other Kenyan feels the same.


I’m going to try and narrate the events of those past days chronologically. Here we go, relax.


The police got a tip for crime committed by some unamed 87 years old. It was an emergency, so someone took the police vehicle and headed to the crime scene. She was brought in for questioning. I assume two officers were involved. They go in pair always. You can’t go field work alone. Statements were written and she was locked up. Awaiting the court hearing. Our good officers finished doing their job and off for Christmas they left. They probably had a merrier Christmas than the rest of us. They saved two stolen chairs from our 87 years old. Didn’t they? She was locked up, the world was a better place. They are serving us well. Aren’t they?


After Christmas, the case was hearing started.  The Prosecutor, judge and the witness were present I guess. One of our two officers was probably there too, to hand in the case to the state. Let’s not forget the accused. The proceeding probably took two hours or less or more. Never been in a court session before. I assume it’s like how it happens in movies, and that usually takes like three minutes.


Our law and order keepers found shosh guilty and was sentenced to prison.


She didn’t have a lawyer. So, this was an open and close case. Every one is glad it didn’t turn into a circus. No long boring proceedings. Everyone is happy, even the tax payer.

I’m proud of you. I really I’m. You are just doing your jobs, reducing the jam in our courts today.


Congratulations one more time. Especially the team that was involved. As tax payers and every other Kenyan is proud of the clean work you did. You got the media attention, more prove how good you are at keeping the law. We are also proud of how our resources are being used. The fuel, the human resource involved and how you spend your time doing this particular  job. Keep it up!

This team should probably get a raise or promotion probably, Mr. President.


I’m Perfect for you

I might not be the one who cooks your meals. I might not be the one who cleans up after you. I might not be your better half. But If you want someone to have a night of a hundred records and dance the night away with then baby I’m perfect for you.


I might not be the one you give your heart. I might not be the one you kiss goodnight everyday. But if need someone to warm your bed tonight then darling, I’m perfect for you.



I might not be the one you share your dreams with. I might not be the  girl of your dreams. But If you need a partner in crime, someone to travel the world with then darling I’m perfect for you.


I might not be the one who walks down the isle for you. I might not be the one who will say, “I do”. But If you need a safe haven to keep your secrets. If you just need to vent then baby I’m perfect for you.


I might not be the one who bears your child. I might not be the one for your future. But in my arms you can always find love.


I might not be the one you think about every day and night but when you need not to think then baby I’m perfect for you.