boyfulani

Napoleon jazzes me. In fact, i kinda idolize him. Of all the historical figures that dot history books, this man stands out…juts out of the (web)pages like he did before the battle of waterloo.

So why Naps? Er Napoleon? His conquests!

And most importantly, His Failure…

I’m not about to banter on with historical gibb-whatever-ish, but i like to look at the pattern. From his famous quote to his one and surely-not-only ‘Jose-fwain’-Not tonight, Josephine…to how historians compare this statement to other greats like Shakespeare, Hitler while drawing a naughty line over below the belt abilities…to other above the belt misjudgments that led to his ‘downfall’.

I am not comparing, but boy, this little African Bwoy does  hit similar crescendos in his life. The only big difference is that i am using a different sword to carve history. But that’s a story for another ass-idious momentoz, sawa?

Coincidentally, I’d like to introduce to the un-introduced a brown brandy that keeps some people going like that bunny – wailing like…Bunny Wailer? Well, for the barbies we affectionately call it Naps. It’s hard hitting and we never do it ‘on the rocks’ . Bottoms up? The Game lied last year, hiyo ilikuwa maji… either way, sea-rock bottom is everthe limit!  The other day, i saw a brainy drunk echo David Maillu when he chanted…

My Dear Naporeon/Tell me the world drools under my rule/Tell me that when i come to roost, all cock-hens dot, helpless with desire /My dear Naporeon, tell me, oh tell me /that i am the richest man in Babylon..

Eh, that’s beside the point coz on this side of campus Chicks do know it and fear it like mandingos c*** (don’t google). Clever guys (read most of us)  surreptitiously make ‘cocktails’ from it and stuff it in empty Viceroy, Richot bottles  for unsuspecting chicks and when they chew (yuu) and… bad things happen.

I don’t like that part of the story. It  gives a bad name to such a ‘righteous’ dwink …i mean, its the ultimate status quo of broke-ass-edness…but well, man must live! Even woman.

What really led me to ran on about Napoleon are the continued sufferance (or sufferations) that follow a man when he fails. People make it feel so final. Personally, i get crushed, kabisa…but strangely, this is the best feeling for me ever. Last month before going back to school, i had box office dreams on how life would be this other end of ‘09. I had hacked a jobbo and i was already bowling, rolling almost singing ‘i’s so paid’. My little ambitions and skills had paid off such that the i had hacked half the company’s products and swung them into my basket.  The head honcho there (who co-workers used to say was ’so-in-love’ with me) was willing to let me carry the chunk to school..on condition that i’d deliver.

I was over the planet Jupiter rising a unicorn and in the process wanted to bring some girl who says i am the ‘boyfie’ to the stable…for very many reasons including me having the lions share. So what happens, i bring the girl, forgetting the big dick is such a womanizer. He suddenly gets excited at the idea and is always asking about ‘this ka-girlfriend of yours..(dirty old man!).

It doesn’t hit me at first but as my time draws to a close,  brains goes into overdrive: girl will hit it off with him -end result, am out. Or she turns down the advance- end result, i am still out.

So i act! Or over-re-acted….

I get some other dude to take up her place (i promise her something else) and guess what i get: a simple txt telling me to forget about it.

I never have…really, but i moved on with the sizeable portfolio i built…never really telling anyone besides dad, and i am still here, holding my Naporeon!

For all its worth, i possess it:  call it the adulterated Napoleonic Complex.

Like any other man, perhaps:

times you’ve been turned down by mamas mpaka uko  immune.

Losing is not final, i can finalize..later on, you realise, you have another go!

well, unless of course, you lose your life….

i have made it, lost it, made it again, and on the verge of losing it…am making it again…