I can’t have it all

There’s a time for everything,

A time to fight,

A time to hold on,

A time to give it some time,

And definitely,

A time to give up,

Not because you can’t go on,

Simply because they can’t keep up,

What’s the point of going on?

Pushing for a non-existent fantasy,

If you make it alone,

Not able to share the moment,

Not able to live in the moment,

Because it only lasted a moment,

I guess I’ve had enough.

It all seems like yesterday,

When you were in my arms,

Laughing at my corny jokes,

Wearing nothing but my jumper,

Your scent on my shirt,

The hood covering your long hair,

Your flawless legs over my lap,

Your head on my shoulder,

My palm over your thigh,

I wish that moment could last,

Just to see you smile,

Hear your laugh,

See you mad,

Then make you happy,

Just one last time,

But I guess you had enough.

I presume things change,

When you tie my past,

And add your future,

You’re bound to get tired,

But I’m not the same,

And neither are you,

I chose to adapt,

You chose to adopt,

A new lifestyle,

Forgot what we saw,

Blocked out what we were to see,

That’s life they say,

You win some,

You lose some,

It’s not always that we both cum,

You can’t have it all.

I’d spend sleepless nights,

Have trouble eating,

Get lost in my thoughts,

Lock myself up,

Just to be alone,

But that’s not who I am,

I love life,


Life loves me back,

I couldn’t assure you of the future,

I lived for today,

You’d settled for tomorrow,

I didn’t want to let go,

But I’m not sure,

I was holding on in the first place,

But let’s pretend I was,

I let go of the best thing I had,

So I guess it’s true,

I can’t have everything.

The Sub-species of the party goer

Every other day I see editorials and lifestyle articles on the newspaper and I more often than not find myself reading them. Not so long ago someone suggested that reading a newspaper was akin to reading a compilation of people’s opinions. I completely agreed with her. We are meant to believe journalists are objective people bound by an oath of truth. If only that was the case.

Journalists, like the roadside roast maize vendor, have their opinions which they mask in vocabulary and put them out as objective journalism. So today I’ve taken it upon myself to put out my opinion on an observation I’ve made. Not that I don’t have opinions. No. God knows I’m 47.5% opinions which I barely hold back when prodded. Today however, I’m not comparing my opinions or getting back at anyone. I’m just stating something I’ve observed over a course of time.

I’m the live and let live kind of guy. I go out whenever I get the chance. The frequency has reduced over the years but I can still hold my own on a night out with Beenie Man dance moves and off key renditions of most tracks. There are different kinds of people that go out, but I’ll stick to the type of guys that walk into a club. And just like the choice of undergarment you picked out today, these are my thoughts. You can have yours and share them.

Scar a.k.a The Huntsman

This is the normal hot blooded guy. He’s usually sharp either in dressing, looks, dance moves or verbal exchange. Scar isn’t going to leave the house and just walk into any club. He knows the clubs that are popping and has a favourable stick to hole ratio. The moment he walks into the club, his first stop is the dance floor.

From this point, he can pick out his prey from the large group of gyrating girls. Unlike a genus we’ll look at later on in the post, the Huntsman is very keen on selection. Depending on the target he’s sighted, he’ll approach her with an appropriate tactic. If she’s the dancer, he’ll make sure she notices every sick move he pulls while inching closer to her the whole while etc.

The whole point of the hunstman’s raving is not going home alone. He’ll even abort missions and relocate to new coordinates if he notices things aren’t going well. Failure to him is settling for a girl he’s seen for less than an hour.

Timon and Pumba a.k.a The Electrons

This group goes out with only one intention, to party. For them the most important thing is having fun. Whether it’s with friends, strangers or alone. They’ll dance the night away occasionally pulling up to a girl or two when the situation calls for it.

At the end of the night, they’ll just call it in and head home satisfied that they had fun. They rarely frequent clubs they know nothing about. They are comfortable with places they know and have the freedom to walk up to the DJ and influence the kind of music being played.

The accountant

This is the guy that will go to specific clubs and is never in a hurry to take any girl home. He takes pride in chatting up a multitude of girls in a night and taking their numbers. His math is simple. Get her number spending close to nothing and look for her in another setting.

He isn’t the most likeable on sight but he knows how to get things rolling once he gets a girls attention. Up side, he doesn’t want much from a girl in their first meetings. The down side depends on your mentality and purpose as a girl going out.

The Husband a.k.a I love my satchel

This breed is the type that walks in to every rave with their girlfriend no matter the occasion. A boy’s night out is a boy’s night out, but they never seem to get this through their heads. They’re usually very calm before they down their alcohol and then become wild after the third shot. For them, there is convenience in having a girl so they never have to look for someone else.

They however, always manage to make things go south. For some weird reason, the girlfriend always finds a reason to leave the club that’s happening at the most absurd hours. There’re only four outcomes to this scenario. The guy leaves with the girl. The guy let’s the girl leave and deals with the consequences in the full view of the sun and witnesses. The whole squad leaves in unison with their hen-pecked brother. Finally, they start quarrelling and one guy has to be sacrificed to go keep the girl company.

As much as they are male role models during the day, they barely make it happen when they come as a pair.

The Tactician a.k.a The German

This is a rare breed of guys. They always plan how their raves are going to turn out. Armed with plan A to the letter just before they dish out the D. They are always accompanied by a beautiful female friend, a heavy wallet or a very unattractive but funny male companion. They know very well, their strength does not lie on the powers dished out during the Pentecost. Speaking in tongues is not their tongue.

Once they walk into any club, they find a strategic location. A place where they are certain girls will notice them and there’s high traffic of the fairer sex as well. They will barely say much in conversation but will keep you occupied with a drink or laughing at jokes about the ugly friend.

How do they use the girl? Well, it’s all psychological warfare. The stunning beauty will attract attention to his table and any daring girl will try to make contact with him. He’ll send her drinks and with time, the girl will be seated beside him only to find that the beauty was just a prototype.

Kony a.k.a Mr. Chemical Warfare

If you’ve gone to high end clubs where age meets youth, you know these kinds of people. I won’t call them guys because they’ve usually had one or two hip surgeries and have more pills than cards in their glove compartment.

What is their weapon of choice? Alcohol. These men know they stand no chance, even on their walking sticks, against hot blooded young men baying for the same moisture as them. So they will spend money and spend it without fear.

The problem with this breed is that success is solely dependent on them. They usually get too excited and end up blacking out on their own supply.

Chernobyl a.k.a The Nuclear Scientist

Time is the most critical factor for this species. They will only spend money when they know there’s a definite result awaiting their monetary labour. They know all the spots with the hottest girls in town. They will usually hang out with you till the hour of the Devil (If you watched The Exorcism of Emily Rose you get the drift).

At this point, they will vacate the premise and go on a mission. The first thing they do when they get into a club is notice a tipsy girl. They strike a conversation and immediately buy them a shot to four. In this state of confusion, my guess is that the girl will suggest they head somewhere private and the deal is done.

Bacteria a.k.a The Decomposer

Just like the name suggests, these are the bulldozers of the club world. They will take anything and everything with a vagina. Their line is, “At the end of the day, we all get the same thing. Vagina”. They will not be deterred by anything.

Their tactic is simple. Approach a group of girls and while the rest of you are busy trying to get the 8s, he goes for the 3.5. Usually, they walk out with girls from the club. This is a bad case of one man’s meat is another man’s poison. Most of them are however, very quick to deny any of these claims until photographic evidence is pulled out.

 Socrates a.k.a The Philosophers

These are usually guys done with post high school education but are below 30 and have no families. They have locals in one or two up market clubs. They go out in a group of not less than three and usually have no interest in taking anyone home unless the opportunity presents itself.

For them, fun is in catching up and having a good time as friends. Their topics will range from emerging issues to professional matters. This will shift at any particular point in time to a story about booty or some girl in the club.

The most interesting thing about the philosophers is that they are usually a blend of almost all the type of ravers. However, once they meet as a group, their goals change and fun together becomes the ultimate goal.

I guess this is goodbye

No goodbye,

Just say “See you soon”

There’s no finality,

It’s a sign of hope,

For tomorrow,

But is there hope?

Will I see you tomorrow?

Or ever?

I can’t get over the thought,

That every time I wave,

Hug you,

Kiss you goodbye,

It may be the last time,

But I take courage in my words,

At least I didn’t leave you with hope,

Hope that I’ll be back,

Back so that you can stare at my back,

One last time,

As you await my return,

Which isn’t guaranteed,

Not by me,

Or any supernatural being,

I want you to know,

Every time I say goodbye,

It may be my last.

Goodbyes are the hardest to say,

Not because it hurts,

Or because you’re saddened,

Simply because of your fears,

Fears that you’ll move on,

Forget about your past,

A past that built you,

A past with people,

People you love,

People you loathe,

People you know nothing about,

And still judged,

Fear the same might happen to you,

The fear of being forgotten,

Becoming insignificant,

To someone you once treasured,

The fear of the unknown,

So strong is the mind,

But equally fickle,

You can choose to grow,

From your past,

And embrace your future,

Or forever be pegged back,

By what was,

Not what could have been.

So this is goodbye,

I’m not leaving you behind,

I’m just moving forward,

Going into the unknown,

I’m frightened,

Well beyond my skin,

But how else is history made?

If not through risks,

Knowing it can be,

As opposed to it would be,

So take my words,

Not as my last words,

But as my last words to you,

Kiss me with finality,

Look into my eyes,

Because what I may see ahead,

May change my outlook of life,

Feel my heartbeat,

It may be the last time it beats for you,

Hold my hand tight,

Because I may lose my grip,

But remember my face,

Remember my smile,

This might not be the last time you see it,

This is goodbye.

The marvel that is nature

Depressing as it may be,

Encouraging as it gets,

The dawn of a new day is beautiful,

When the sun peeps,

Warm rays,

In the cold morning weather,

Meet your eyes,

And your eyes its glare,

When the hills brighten,

The plains’ dew glows,

And birds sing of its beauty,

That is the joy of morning,

A beginning you see everyday,

An unpredictable beginning,

That brings with it joy,

Laughter, skepticism and pain,

A beginning some dread,

Others relish,

And others look at with yesterday’s eyes,

That is the joy of morning.

I see splendor in still water,

The serenity,

The ambiguity,

Of it’s the depth,

The fear of what lurks,

Coupled with the confidence,

From the clarity of the water,

That you can see where you’re diving,

The reflection of the sun,

Off the scales of a fish,

The wonder of life beneath water,

How plants grow,

Completely immersed in water,

Creatures at peace in their element,

The bird that swoops from the sky,

So swift,

Yet so magnificent,

As it picks out its prey from the sky,

Flying down into the water,

And gloriously taking away its prize,

Bringing an end to one life,

While sustaining another.

How I ponder,

Each time it rains,

Sit by the window,

Look at the pandemonium,

See a whole terrain change,

Watch as raindrops fall from the window,

Trickle to the ground,

Only for them to be sipped,

The mystery of rain,

A sign of hope,

That can take away any sign of hope,

Nature can not be understood,

I can only marvel,

At its magnificence,

And wait to curse,

Praise it,

Or be indifferent about it,

Just like nature,

The human mind can’t be predicted,

I can only sit back and learn.

There is no absolute freedom without moderation

I’d want to stay off the public stripping debate after some advice I got over the weekend but it doesn’t seem likely. There are a few things to get clear in this whole scenario. The first one is that it’s not in anybody’s jurisdiction to strip another human being for indecent dressing. If their attire makes them indecent, then it beats logic to have them completely naked.

If there’s anything I was taught in my short learning stint it’s that opinions will always vary. The other thing about opinions is that they’re like ideas. They may be stupid or absurd but they are never wrong. I therefore, won’t spend my time writing about other people’s opinions. I’ll just state mine and leave it at that. You however do know that for me to have an opinion there must’ve been a contrary one.

I can’t reiterate how disturbing it is to see a mob tear off clothes from a woman and have mature men busy grabbing vaginas and breasts. This has nothing to do with the fact that I have a mother, sisters, cousins and friends. Absolutely not. It’s a simple case of tolerance and respect. Who’s to blame for what these people did? Their parents? The system? The ladies? I have no answer to that just like yours isn’t necessarily the correct one.

I’ve heard every sort of punishment from castration to life imprisonment. From stripping men peeing in public to chopping off their manhood. Each of the people throwing these suggestions around have a justification and as foolish as I may think some of the opinions are, I’ve still taken time to listen. All these emotions are coming from somewhere and it’s not in my place to tell you why life imprisonment isn’t a solution and neither is stripping or castration.

I’ll pose the same question I posed. Murder and rape are illegal, but are they reducing by any means even with the threat of a death penalty? I’ll answer you. No, they aren’t. The problem is that even in having policies meant to deter such characters, do we have the mechanism to enforce them? We get lost when we confuse the law for justice. These are two very distinct things. I’ll for one tell you even rapists don’t get the same sentence for the same crime. A woman who rapes a small boy is called a molester whereas a man who rapes a girl is a rapist. So justice shouldn’t even be on our tongues when dealing with set mechanisms.

Individuals who have the time to sit at the same place all day with no assured source of income tend to have very inactive minds. If we were to sample the people who stripped these ladies there’d be various deductions from each of them. Some did it out frustrations in life. Others did it because they saw the chance to touch a free breast. Some did it because that kind of dressing isn’t a norm where they come from and they know nothing of tolerance. Probably, one of those individuals had a vendetta against the lady and only used that as a reason to get back at them.

The reasons for their Neanderthal actions may be as many as the people in that mob. I’m not anybody’s defender so I’d like to find out the reason for their actions before jumping into any conclusions. It’s always more beneficial to deal with a problem once you’ve identified its root cause. Knee jerk reactions are only going to stall these hooligans for a while.

I’ll get to what my post was about now. I believe in freedom and love the essence of enjoying it. Without freedom, I wouldn’t be able to write this without fear. But does freedom need to be absolute? As I said earlier, we have different opinions and we can only be so diverse when we all have unique identities. Freedom should be moderated in my opinion. With the onset of absolute freedom, which most people are clamouring for, we can only await disaster.

Why I’m I saying this? Well, I simply believe that even in our objectivity we are still subjective. I’ve seen people posting pictures of Africans in the pre-colonial period with headers #AfricaIn1800 #WhatisUnAfrican? It’s very true that Africans didn’t cover much in 1800. Hell, they flaunted it and were definitely proud of it. They only changed when the colonialists came to Africa and introduced cotton dressing and all that other fancy stuff to them.

Since we are talking about African dressing with so much passion, let’s indulge some more. It was very African among the Luo to abduct a girl you liked and run off with her to your homestead and keep her as a wife. If I did that today, there’d be very few options. Have my face all over TV and the General Service Unit knocking down my door before I’m shot for kidnapping or face prison time.

I’m more of the docile twitter user so I tend to read more than I write. I’ve seen ladies posting things like, “If you don’t go down. It’s not going down.” I’m not sure how African that is but I’ll let you ask someone born in 1930 to expound. I think it’s selfish for any individual to pick out a specific part of history that favours their situation to build an argument.

If we were to be purely African, we’d renounce Western education, technology, mode of dressing and language just to name a few. The same people writing #Africain1900 are applying for greencards and hoping to win a trip to London from Nakumatt at the end of the year. How African are you when you went to Agoro Sare secondary school and you have an accent from Decatur? I’ll take many arguments but anything to do with being African by either the stripper or the stripped is misplaced and out rightly disrespectful to anyone who takes pride in being an African.

Let me tell you something I witnessed when I went to my ancestral land as a child. People didn’t have bathrooms (the traditional one, not what you call a restroom at the bar to sound chic) so they took their showers at the lake. Every morning at around 8am, people would stream down to the river without fail. The first time, I was bit cautious because I wasn’t comfortable showering in the nude with girls my age around me.

But as soon as we got to the lake, people would split according to gender. The females would shower on one side of the lake and the males on the complete opposite side. So when I hear of the African argument I can only shake my head; because even when people had the freedom to walk with their breasts hanging low or pointing to the true north, there was still some conservative nature in us as Africans.

I’m convinced beyond reasonable doubt (which was a classic) that I cannot and will not take part in dictating how women dress. My opinion of the dressing may be full of disgust or admiration but I will keep it as that. It’s very confusing when you see a girl call another girl ugly, shapeless or better yet a slut for the way she dresses but would be offended if a man said it.

With choices come great responsibilities. I would like my daughter to grow knowing I will not judge her for her dressing but the world will. The world does not care that I love my daughter and that I taught her our dressing shouldn’t limit us. I would like to have my daughter walk in these streets comfortably knowing that no sex crazed man will walk up to her and find a reason to take her clothes off her body.

With the internet age you have no limit as to what your children will see. If my daughter grows knowing she can release a sex tape with her boyfriend for some little boost in her career, I have failed as a father. If my daughter grows up knowing shaking her ass on a music video will make her popular, I have failed as father. If my daughter has to pack extra clothes when leaving the house only to change outside the gate, I have failed as a father.

If I can’t teach my son to tolerate other people’s opinion, I have failed as a father. If my son can take pride in stripping an innocent woman off her clothes, I have failed as a father. If I can’t teach my son to respect women, I have failed as a father. If I can’t teach my son that not following the masses isn’t wrong, you guessed it, I have failed as a father.

When I say freedom with moderation I stand by it. As much as dressing doesn’t speak of our personalities, it makes an impression. You will not always have the time to stop every person you see to seek clarification on account of their dressing. If you think people will judge you for wearing those tight, luminous jeans you have sagged all the way down to your knees, you have no business wearing them.

We’ll always say if you don’t pay my bills then keep your opinions. I won’t keep mine because as much as I don’t pay your bills, I have seen you and it had an impact on me, major or minor. So I will have opinions. The only way absolute freedom would work is if we operated like animals, in small groups. With set laws and systems, we’ll always run into trouble with people who disagree with what we feel is right. How they handle it will vary, but we need to raise our children to know tolerance and respect don’t harm.

I would apologize to the harassed ladies but I had no part in it so I won’t take responsibility for actions I know nothing of. I will however, make it clear that we live in a world of double standards. The same people advocating for #MyDressMyChoice have very negative opinions on socialites. If we are to enjoy absolute freedom in this world, as long as we can justify ourselves there’s nothing wrong in any of our actions provided it’s justifiable.

To cap off my very long post, I’d advocate for the root cause of this barbaric behaviour to be determined and acted upon. If we just go arresting people, it will deter them from doing it in the daylight but what about our sisters and mothers at night? Let’s remember that tolerance and respect will achieve far more than brute force, double standards and barbaric acts. It’s a social issue that needs to be addressed.