Two Fourteen

These matatu people should just die!  is what I was thinking as I was stumbled out of the moving matatu that had changed route midway. It was not like I was late enough as it was. I don't remember what I was in a hurry to do.  All I remember is jumping off the matatu and doing the usual self pat-down.      If you live in Eastlands you know what I mean. If you don't let me explain.      I live in an area full of thuggery. You might be seated to a passenger who will pick your pocket. You will only realize it later that, the reason that bastard was opening the newspaper that wide was because his third hand was busy in your pocket. And there you were thinking he was kind enough to let you read the sports section. Or it could be the conductor doing it. Why do you think he has to overload the matatu and still insist on moving around to collect everyone's fare personally? Huh? Why? Isuzu Prado? Seems legit     So , usually, when you g...

Seven months of struggling, sweating, late nights and a lot of shillings later, I am through with my field report. Hot damn it feels good. Hot damn, it’s been long. I had even forgotten about the field study. It was in August last year, in the wilderness, for 40 28 days. Remember that? Probably not. The field work was hard and long but the report writing should have not even taken more than 2 weeks. We could have been through with it by September, but this being a third world country, our labs lacked equipment for analyzing samples and we had to take them to the government labs, and we all know how those are. Add high levels of procrastinations to that and you have report of 60 pages taking a whole 6 months to write. Kenya. Anyway, 3 weeks ago, we finally got all the data we needed and truthfully, that is when the real report writing began. On the day of handing in the reports however we were hit with something we didn’t expect. Together with the hard copy (which cost an arm and 3 fin...

     When I was a kid, I was a very poor eater. Or so I am told. My memory does not go past yesterday. I am told I would put food in my mouth and not chew for like 30 minutes. The food would turn watery due to digestion by saliva and I would swallow only when my cheeks got tired or I got a slap. I hated food. I still hate some till today. Whatever food I have no memory ever eating as a kid I never eat even today. I hate tomatoes, pizza, burgers, yorghut, onions, a range of green vegetables... the list is long.      Then in class four I went to boarding school. Which in retrospect was a very young age to be put away, considering how my bro is now in class four and still cannot cross the road by himself. But I think I get Dad's point of view. It was less of a hustle for him.    Boarding is where I can say I learnt how to eat, among other things. I learnt how to eat quickly because we had a time limit. And I learned how to eat a lot because the P.E d...