boyfulani

I once joked to someone that i schooled in Machakos Technical School. Since then, the name has stuck in my head like mshuto ya duck-billed platypus!
Maaaaaaaaan!
It makes me laugh even as i like to hate on my days here sand-witched between rocks, rock hyraxes and multi-colored geckos. Talk about going to a campus under a Municipal called Mavoko..er, wait.. you think i am hating?
Dad’s actually a joker. And a hater while at it. Looking back at the school’s he has had me enrolled, i think this trend is too coinciding to ignore. In high school, our tap water supply came from slopes of Killimanjaro, just before Loitoktok township. We were a cool 100km (approx.) away. The ‘fun’ part came when the plastic pipe burst and rich as Olkejuado County Council was (noticed a trend here???) it took two months to repair them – how many constituency/municipals have a heli-pad, save a helicopter…to fly over and find, fix the leak?
Thanks God we were a complete parade of…well, boys!
Otherwise, remember the stench that they say stinks heaven high? (I am not pointing fingers)
So, basically, i don’t need a red Mau-Alert from Mau-kind (Kenyans) to conserve water: nilijua ku-survive na chupa ya 1.5 Litres ya maji kufanyia yafuatayo: kupiga passport (eyes,ears, only), ku-brush meno,kunyunyizia hankie alafu unajigusa makwapa nayo..kiaasi tu, kufua colla ya shati pekee, kuoshea plate….sare tu.

Hapa in Masaku Tekniko the highlight of my days was when i sat next to woman with a bunch of hens on those Masaku buses and the resistance to look sideways was overcomed by, well, curiosity…and right there squarely on my nose was the warm, wet chicken’s..er, behind!

~Mind-less.