Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Only in Kenya

1. A very fit athlete fall from a balcony and die. Then the police peddle a suicide story. The wife also peddles a "he fell from the balcony" story. Truth be told, i just don't buy into all that crap. Being a lawyer, i can see very many conspiracies there. Paint the guy a womanizer and a reckless drunk who ultimately meets his death for his reckless ways:).

2. A magistrate not only declares the accused was found to be trading in shares while holding unpublished information and then declares him not guilty because there is no crime to it. There is one, it is called insider trading. SMH

3. Hasn't Barclays learnt anything from Uchumi. Why are they insisting on selling HIllcrest schools. Isn't the work of Receiver Manager to turn the business to profitability and then handover to its owners.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Blast from the past

There was a time living in Nairobi was an absolute pleasure. Forget that 200/= was all i had in my pocket at any one time. But boy did we party! No wonder they say party like it's '99.

Days when cars were really big

I remember going to Carnivore for rock nights in a london taxi, those that could carry around 10 people at a time. When having a friend who had a friend who had a friend who had a car was a luxury! Those were treasured friends in every outing. So we would get in , the 8 of us into the tiny old toyota (poor car! ) and ride to the rave. We went everywhere where there was a party. Be it Campus Nite in Westland, who remembers Archivos and queing outside K1 and their horribly mean guards!

Before the Raves became pubs
In the days raves were proper raves with dancefloors. Now, there are no raves but plenty of bars everywhere.

Days when one didn't have money to buy beer, but still got majorly wasted

Naingia K1 na minipack za safari!
These were the days when guys would drink their Safari cane and then get wasted before walking to the nearest club to buy 1 drink and dance their hearts out. One guy told me, after a night out he could hardly walk.

Days before Mututho

The days when partying started any time and ended when the sunrise beckoned. I mean has no one ever had to lift their legs up to allow the cleaners to clean in the morning or had breakfast before doing the walk of shame home with dirty jeans and sneakers.  My friend says there were three things that you didn't want to look at the wallet, the shoes and the jeans after coming from the rave. 

Days before the Bambas

The bambas (MILO(tm)) are the PYT's (Pretty Young Things) who have proven that you don't have to do anything much to get them to panty drop! According to what i have heard you just need to buy them 2 smirnoff ice and a chemicalizer (aka some shots) and you will have her biblically speaking at the end of the night.

The days we were still PYT's, guys would buy us fanta (no alcoholic drinks) and the most they got was probably a shika shika time at the end of the night.

Whatever has happened. Girls are begging to be chipod. Like i had this friend who went to the rave with a friend and she had a friend who was begging him to take her home, somethings are just wrong period. Not everything belongs to reversed roles, gender equality or not.

Days before Facebook and Twirra

You know you should all ya quit social network and know your neighbour!

Before FB and Twirra, we used to changa to buy one mzinga and piga stories the whole night and then walk to K1 to see the final boxing match between Lennox Lewis and Mike Tyson. The days when the person next to you in the matatu could strike conversation and possibly squeeze in a loose date. These days everyone is so busy on facebook and twirra to even notice the chic sitting next to them!

And at least no one dumped you by switching their status and de-friending you on facebook! When someone wanted to dump you they would have to call you, meet up and then change their minds after your flood of tears!

Ooh and when the all so self pompous didn't have a following on twirra! Who cares what you woke up to and what you are cooking for dinner. Really.