Category Archives: Random Thoughts

Sometimes I just think up things and put it down. Off the dome

Being politically correct isn’t necessarily correct

I have plenty of arguments with myself at times and most of the time it’s usually about things that I observe. I’m a big proponent of the theory of relativism and I like judging everything exclusively because every reaction is as a result of a specific action which is independent in relation to the time and environment. Today I have jumbled thoughts and I’d just like to put them out there regardless of whether they’re related or not.

As time goes by everybody is trying to be politically correct. You say something you feel will not put you in a position to defend yourself and stand by your opinion. I’ve been on the wrong end of people’s opinions for voicing my opinions but as I always say, everyone is entitled to their opinion and you don’t necessarily have to like someone to respect their opinion even if you think it’s dumb.

Last night I was heading home from work and I saw a girl people referred to as a slut because she’d slept with many guys. Personally, I give my own definitions to some terms and the term slut is very broad depending on how you look at it. Who’s a slut? A person who sleeps with multiple individuals? Who determines when another human being is to be referred to as a slut? Also, it’s good to know a slut can either be a guy or lady in my books.

To me, a slut is someone who uses emotion to get sex. If you make someone fall for you knowing very well it’s not leading to anything, you’re a slut. Don’t get me wrong, hooking up with a person you’ve just met isn’t leading on anyone. Telling the person you love or have feelings for them with no good intention is wrong. That makes you a slut. If a girl sleeps with 10 guys but had no emotional attachment to any of them, she may have ruined her reputation but she definitely hasn’t ruined anyone’s life.

However, when you as a guy nail a girl and make her think she’s the only one only to leave her, you’re messing her life because she’ll find it hard to trust another guy or look for love in all the wrong ways. So as the girl approached me, I was thinking, if she tries to hook up, I’m definitely hitting that. It didn’t happen but I just looked at her as I would look at any of my friends, who do the same.

When I was close to getting home, a passenger boarded the vehicle I was in and sat right in front of me. I hadn’t paid much attention to them because I only stare at girls I can or think should be having sexual relations with. This was a guy. Or so I thought. She had a tracksuit on, a cap and had the Jeremih shave. You couldn’t see her breast probably because she had a sports bra on or maybe they were just shy and hid.

That’s when it hit me. I had seen the individual before. She was a dyke and I’ll be honest, put against each other, she looked more hood than I did. But that’s probably because I like my look clean and simple. I don’t want to be mistaken for a thug or a fuckboy. I looked at her for a minute, probably even stared and thoughts were running through my mind.

We live in a liberal world and that is something we can’t deny. We live in a time where saying you’re not ok with anything people agree with is put on the same pedestal as treason. But have you stopped for a minute to think there are people who grew before liberalism? Because every time I looked at her, my mum’s voice played in my head. “When are you bringing me a grandchild?” I am my mother’s only son and coming from a paternal community, my children are not any more important than my sister’s but it’s a cultural thing for her.

I started thinking, what if her mother is like my mother and just wants a grandchild of her own? Would she be wrong to feel her daughter’s path is wrong? And don’t get me wrong, personally, I don’t care about anyone’s sexual preferences as long as it’s not with a minor and is consensual (Also leave pets out of your fantasies). But that’s me, not my parents who were born before Kenya became independent and were brought up on different principles.

I have shared classes with gay people both in high school and university. Throughout this time, I’ve seen different reactions to them. Some are cool, others on the fence depending on the setting and others are out rightly against it. Do I feel any of these parties is any more right than the other? Certainly not. Opinions are personal but they shouldn’t infringe on anyone’s rights. If you don’t like gay people, good for you, just make sure to keep it to yourself. If you feel same sex relationships are cool, well and good, but don’t make people feel bad about it for not sharing your sentiments.

If So every time I see someone posting something negative about gay people, I think to myself, “What happens when you get a gay child?” Equally, when I see someone posting or castigating someone for not being pro-gay, I wonder, “What happened to letting people be themselves?” Just like opinions, there’s no right or wrong sexual contact between two consenting adults. To each his own, right?

I told you I had a lot to share today. During the day, I saw a friend post something on Twitter. He shunned someone for taking sides only to take a side a few minutes later. Who said it’s wrong to take a side? There is no absolute objectiveness in life. We all have biases that affect the way we perceive life and how we react to situations.

I’ve asked this question before, if there’s beauty, doesn’t that definitely show there’s another thing on the other end of the spectrum? So when I say one of your friends is beautiful and another one is ugly, why I’m I mean because I’ve seen two completely opposite ends? I’m I supposed to tell you something you want to hear just to be cool with you? I’m I not worse off for having no concrete opinion than always being politically correct?

Have you seen how many times brands have dropped people because of public opinion in recent times? Manny Pacquiao and Maria Sharapova are the latest victims. I have nothing against big brands, major reason being I can’t afford them; but when you use kids to manufacture your brands, charge top dollar and can barely pay your labour enough money to raise their families, where’s the moral in that? You can’t stand on a moral ground as a brand when your existence is not founded on morality.

I feel the same way about celebrities that endorse these brands and are quick to talk about inequalities and oppression. Why talk about oppression when the source of your glamour is oppression? You endorse a brand that exploits its employees yet you claim your people aren’t treated fairly? What nonsense is this? Did you suddenly realize there are suffering people in the world in your Nikes?

Who bears the moral authority in the country? Is it the police? Is it the government? Or is it the role of religious institutions and parents? Online fliers have been doing rounds of an adult-themed party dubbed ‘Project X’. I’m not in the least bit interested because one thing I’m counting on is the number of male patrons to outnumber the female patrons. The issue at hand however, is the idea that the police feel this party is wrong and are hell-bent on stopping it.

I’m not going to go into whether the party is right or wrong. I’ve been to all kinds of parties and I’ve seen things on printable on a script. My question is what do the police think they will achieve in cancelling the party? Instill morals in people who were already too willing to lose them for anything? I’d support the police action if they made the parents of the adults that attend the party teach them on morals. But that’s not possible, is it? We’ve got to a point where the people setting standards have no clue of the standards they’re setting.

Same thing with the church. When you stand in front of your congregation as a religious leader; a person charged with the duty to show the way. How do you sleep at night knowing very well you’re living in opulence while your congregation is wallowing elsewhere in poverty?  Do you ever think about the heavenly riches most of you preach about?

Is it only the sheep that will inherit the earth or will they take their shepherd with them? What moral ground do you stand on to speak against corruption when church members are fighting over land and tithes? When pastors are flying in G5s and driving state of the art vehicles while the congregation walks? Maybe the congregation is to blame for being gullible. But what happens when the people entrusted with spreading the word toy with your weaknesses for personal gain? The meek shall inherit the kingdom of God while the shepherd inherits their wealth on earth,

That is what I feel we lack as human beings. You want to please people at the expense of sharing what you honestly feel. When you believe in something, stand by it until the moment you’re convinced by another thing; if that will ever happen. You’re a unique human being and should treat yourself as such. Having an opinion doesn’t mean shoving it down people’s throats or throwing a tantrum every time someone doesn’t agree.

It means being mature about it and knowing you can learn more from listening and taking the positive points. Don’t be too quick to pass judgment. Always remember we’re exposed to different environments and these play a key role in molding our thoughts and world view. Listening doesn’t cost you anything except for motivational talks and artists.

Being politically correct isn’t necessarily correct.

I may just have found Chivalry!

There’s this one time I was walking from the shop late at night. It must have been Friday in another galaxy because the stars were lit. I was with my trusted feline, Chivs, full   name, Chivalry. She would always accompany me to the shop just in case another feline would try to convince me to take her home like she did. This night we didn’t meet a feline, we met a dog and I wasn’t about to fight my own species. So I took off and Chivalry stayed back to fight for us but never made it home. I rushed into the house and let out a scream, “Chivalry is dead!”

So, I have a friend. A true friend, not a Facebook friend, Jay, who has his own blog and he did a piece on chivalry. I read it and in my head I was thinking is chivalry really dead or was it bottled and presented to us as Chivas Regal? These are the questions Einstein asked himself on his way to becoming one of the most respected mathematicians if not the most respected. In my home, I am a respected Mathematician. All the bills have to pass through me and I do the calculations mentally. Yes, I am that talented ladies, now what was your number again?

Is chivalry dead? I don’t know but what I do know is Chivas does taste like someone is holding the door for you without the intention of taking you to bed; immediately. Chivalry is one of those few words that are misused and inappropriately used by different parties. What is chivalry? Is it holding the door for a lady? Pulling out a seat for her at dinner? I’ll share the basic definition of chivalry with you. Chivalry is the combination of qualities expected of an ideal knight, especially courage, honor, courtesy, justice, and a readiness to help the weak.

From the above definition, the only part of the definition people seem to notice is the courtesy bit. How should you treat a lady? Is opening doors and other mundane gestures as a show of chivalry? And does everybody deserve a piece of your chivalry? Honestly, no. Not everyone deserves such treatment. You know the way religion morphed to adapt to the changing times, that’s how chivalry has morphed. Who deserves this royal treatment?

To be sexually correct, I’ll not restrict chivalry to gestures towards ladies only, even Steve wants a piece of chivalry from someone out there. Chivalry is all about respect and it varies with different people. The environment you’re exposed heavily influences how you treat other people, including the ones you intend to bed. What does me opening the door for you symbolize? To some it’s a show of affection and emotion. To others, it’s a sign of weakness as a man. In the hood it’s literally translated as kukaliwa, being sat on.

What does it mean to me? If you do it after sleeping with the recipient of the act of chivalry over a period of time; it’s affection. I’m speaking from the perspective of an observer, participant and judge, just like the Ugandan government during elections. All these terms are relative and you can’t really pin one action and expect it to cut across the board. Your gentleman isn’t necessarily your sister’s gentleman; though I have seen some twins do that. Shout out to all twins sharing a man out there. You are the true MVPS.

I’m I chivalrous? If you base your definition on doors, I most definitely am. I’ve made girls breakfast, and I don’t eat breakfast. I pour their drinks in their glasses and even say hi when I meet them in the streets. Chivalry is relative. However you choose to look at it, we all have our versions of chivalry. Some girls like lions for males. These are the guys that only do the basic stuff. Change bulbs and bring food to the table; the hardworking type.

Some ladies like hyenas. These are the kind of guys that open doors and do all that romantic stuff according to the book. I’m not basing my choice of animals on their eating habits but rather social structure in the species hierarchy. Others simply like weaver birds. This is the group of men who like being followed around, or ladies, depending on whether you’re a frankfurter or fish kind of person.

It all comes down to preference. What does the person these gestures are intended for prefer? And being the 21st century where everyone is clamouring for equality, should chivalry be reciprocated? If you ask me, no. I don’t need a lady opening doors for me and pouring my drink (Wherever). Maybe you do, it’s all about how in touch you are with your feminine side.

I’m a semi-traditional guy. I’m not fully modern in other words. I like doing some things my dad would frown upon but there are things I do and the old heads use me as a reference in, “How to be the McCoy” classes with their sons. The thing about chivalry is that it takes exposure to know what to do and when to do it.

What I can tell you about all these variations of chivalry is that the end goal is the same. They want to see what that mouth do and know when those pants come off. Chivalry is essentially beating around the bush in a structural way. Instead of feeding on the fish before feeding the fish, you show the fish how it’ll be feeding around you. Yes, even your boyfriend or girlfriend (all butches out there) wants a piece of that ass.

Show me some skin
Show me some skin

So does chivalry really exist? Or is chivalry just a means to an end? Valentines is coming up in a few days and you’re either single or hooked to someone. I’m going to be candid about Valentines. If anyone started texting you late last week and is nice, feign a busy schedule until the 15th. This is the month chivalry will be misused with guys carrying red roses all over the street and girls trying to squeeze into red dresses probably meant for their teenage daughters.

Chivalry is a code of conduct and has no season. It’s something you show to anyone deserving of it and should be part of your life. You can’t go around saying chivalry is alive or dead when you barely know its definition. Also, if you see me holding any door for a well dressed lady any time between now and the 15th, that’s not my mum so don’t say anything about us looking alike.

Being a gentleman has nothing to do with the hood definition of chivalry and the people resurrecting and killing it every other time. Being a gentleman is about treating whoever you’re treating with respect and that’s what chivalry is about. You might be the only one he opens doors for but not the only one opening random things for him. Treat that person in a way that makes them appreciate everything about themselves. Leave the door business to doormen and do things that actually make sense. Also, I’m free to book for dates ladies. I will even throw in a literature piece of the date. Just make sure it’s within Nairobi and you’re at least 800 words interesting. I’ll fill up the rest.

You need to be swept off your feet?
You need to be swept off your feet?

I woke up like this! Thoughtful

Today is just one of those days I had to sit myself down and write myself a letter. I’m I the only person who has intra conversations? Ask yourself questions and beat yourself up because you know you could have done better? Well, I’m at that point in my life and I have nobody to talk to so I share with myself. Sounds crazy, right? I guess every market needs its mad man for entertainment.

I’m getting my life on track and I really can’t say I’ve fallen off because I had no goal to start with. My benchmark is my previous achievements. Does that limit my ambition or does it make me realistic? I’m at the age where my friends are fathering kids, giving birth or posting photos on holidays. I can’t say it doesn’t get to me at times. I usually ask myself, “What I’m I doing wrong?”

Reality always seems to come to my rescue and smack me back to my senses. We all say we don’t do anything to please anyone so why would other people’s lifestyles bother me? Why I’m not in a relationship or haven’t been in one for years? To be honest, I don’t know. To others, there’s something wrong with me. I was either hurt or hate commitment, but it’s neither. I’m alone just because I like it.

What’s self-assessment? Is it not about re-evaluating your past self in comparison to your new self? Well, I like my old self. I like the me that didn’t care about who had the shiniest watch or who got paid more than who. Yeah, you’re probably wondering what I’m I going on about? I’m going on about life. What value do you attach to life?

These aren’t formative years for me. I don’t even believe in formative years as a human being. Why do I need to be tied down to a timeline I was consulted in scheduling? Shouldn’t I have exclusive authority to decide when my formative years should be? I shouldn’t be tied down to people’s expectations of what I should be doing. What do you mean what I’m I doing with my life? Isn’t living and appreciating every other day doing something with my life?

The problem with the world is that people want to compare people who were exposed to different environments. I cannot be my father. As much as there is transfer of genes, it’s not CTRL+C, CTRL+V. I cannot be what my parents are. I also cannot be that kid you look up to as a teacher. Look at me as a unique person and you’ll be on a long journey to understand that I cannot and will not be whoever you want me to be.

The internet has brought about standard regulators from all corners. You’re not wife material if you do this. You are a fuckboy because of this and that. What makes your wife material my wife material? Maybe I like them tough like khaki or soft like satin. You see, the thing about these standards is that they come from a point of want rather than experience. When you say I’m a fuckboy because I can’t do certain things I’m not accustomed to, then what makes you any different from me? Other than gender of course.

When choosing a girlfriend or wife (some people marry before dating) you have your own expectations. Some look at physical beauty, some look at intelligence, others personality (What you call inner beauty) and others just go for the person they find first. Someone worships that wife material you say is trash. One man’s whore is another man’s saint (Ask that prophet in the bible who had to marry a harlot).

The world will always try and determine how you should live your life. You always need to remember that you’re a unique individual and you should always communicate that. It’s hard not to want to impress someone and as much as we deny it, we all try to impress someone. It’s not wrong. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. The only problem is losing your principles and dignity trying to impress someone.

Live your life like you are royalty. If you’re a Christian, the bible tells you you’ve been created in the image and likeness of God so technically; you are a god in your own right and deserve to treat yourself as such. It’s the case of the argument that most billionaires don’t have university or college education. The sad bit is that the people that run their companies are all college or university educated. So you can’t rely on one person’s life story to base yours.

Create your own path and start your own story. Pioneers were never pioneers when they started off. Most of them were either laughed at or looked at as dimwits for taking their own path. You have to be willing to take the risk to be able to enjoy what those you aspire to be live. Like Kanye;  he always does the wrong things in our eyes but doesn’t give one hoot. Except marrying Kim, that will bit bite him forever or be a finger in ll the wrong places. Personally, I don’t have a role model or a mentor. I look at everyone exclusively and through their lives I’m able to pick what I can do better and what to leave out.

Don’t be afraid of being weird. You should be more afraid of being normal because that means you’re conforming and losing the true essence of who you are. Nobody will ever appeal to everyone. Obama had black people opposing his presidency in 2008. Hitler had people who loved him for who he was, so your level of weird will always have people who’ll hate it and people who’ll ride with you. You just need to do what makes you comfortable (And no, I’m not saying Hitler was right for what he did. I barely know the guy). This doesn’t mean you should break the law or anything of the sort, unless it’s taking soup with a fork; that is a law you can break any time. If you take soup with a fork, you are past any law. You are the law.

Everyone has their outlook of life and it certainly doesn’t apply to everyone but there are a few things you can pick from everyone’s mantra that will help you make life more enjoyable. The true meaning of life is in taking everyday as it comes and always striving to be the best you can be. I don’t know where I got all this all this wisdom but I trust myself so I suggest you also do the same. Otherwise, has any of you seen a lost cat somewhere? The type of girl I’m looking for likes heroes and you can’t beat rescuing a homeless cat.

You’ve probably fallen in love at some point in your life or had a feeling that felt something close to love. It’s normal even if you don’t admit it. I have felt this way about someone or two before in my life before and I have never kept it a secret that if I fall in love I’m the break a leg a kind. I enjoy every moment of it and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not an expert when it comes to love or intimate relationships but I know plenty about how humans relate. All this is purely from  observation and socialization.

The question is can I love more than one person at one time? Even in love there are things you don’t like about the person you love. If I can have more than one kid and love them equally, what makes it so different when it comes to an adult? Don’t run away beautiful girl, these are all hypothetical questions and I’m not assured of finding two females that I can love.

Every individual is unique in their own right. Even identical twins have very distinct behaviours and tendencies. For the people that watch football, you know there’s a reason you may be a Manchester United fanatic but still appreciate the way Arsenal goes about their football. I actually do appreciate the way Arsenal has been playing this season.

So when I meet you at the club and I say hi, I still don’t know you. There are four different scenarios that may take place. One, I may convince you or you may want to go home with me. I prefer taking you home because at your place there are all types of shenanigans that may go down. Your sponsor may walk in even before I bust my morning nut and I’d have to hide with your malnourished puppy under the bed. I may also meet a girl I know there, or better yet, an aunt. There are too many risks involved.

Two, I may take you number and we’ll get to know each over days or weeks depending on how much you can keep a conversation going. And yes, a guy can sleep with you and the first night and not call you ever or even take your number. He can also fall in love. It’s not a Science that has a theory behind it.  Three I may take you number and lose interest within the first week. It’s never personal, you’ve seen things that caught your attention but you forgot as soon as you walked out the store.

Lastly, I can take your number and never use it. Those are the random calls you get after 4 months and a guy is trying to remind you of the time you were in a dress that used to fit you. Why I’m I telling you about these scenarios? Well, I still don’t know but I thought I’d forget so this was one of the only ways to document them.

I like girls for different reasons. Some girls have billboard faces and that’s what appeals to me at that time. Other girls have artistic bodies and I’m a sucker for curves, hopefully it’s not around your abdomen or face. Some girls are very intelligent and you can engage them on a variety of topics without losing interest at any given point. Some girls were raised in amusement parks and can do things you see on pornhub only. At times, they come with a combination of these skills.

As a human with a very timid level of concentration, I adopt to the conditions I find myself in. Do I intend to hurt these girls? Of course not. I’m a decent guy who drinks out of a glass and pee on all the stains in the toilet. I’m not very sure of the physiological or psychological composition of the human so I can’t say men were wired that way. I’ve met girls who have sex with men for fun and I know most men can separate their emotions from sex so it gets a bit tricky.

The problem arises when you use emotion to get sex. Flattery and flirting isn’t emotion ladies. I’m talking about the guys who promise ladies their parents will be receiving a flock of cattle and birds by the end of the year. Now that is wrong. There are two things you do when you use such techniques to get a girl to bed. You distort her stand on men and that can work in two ways. She’ll despise men or will throw herself at the next guy and thereafter to fill the void you left.

When you use emotion to get sex, you not only mess the girl up, you mess up for people like us who haven’t settled yet. I don’t want to fix your mistakes son. These are the kind of girls that want to check up on everything I’m doing and accompany everywhere just because they don’t trust men to walk alone. The way dogs are treated nowadays. What happened to dogs having the freedom to associate and bite whoever they pleased? I don’t want to be on a leash. That’s what you do boy when you tell her you love her just to get in her pants.

Again, ladies, when you say men are dogs; that’s a compliment to some of us because dogs are known to be very loyal. And DMX made calling your homies dogs very cool. He even barks in his songs and has a signature growl. Do you girls love dogs? I’ve always advocated for separation of issues. What one guy or lady does to you is not a representation of an entire species. We aren’t in a cult, so unless you’re dating someone in a cult; then don’t expect the same treatment from people who aren’t in your cult.

Whatever attracts you to one person or more, depending on the size of your heart, is custom tailored. Have you heard that you should never try solving a problem between two lovers? You’ll end up taking one party’s side and when things work out, you’ll be the asshole that almost messed up a good thing. Keep out and let the courts or people who were involved in the marriage negotiations sort it out.

I may just have given you life’s hack to relationships and I haven’t even been able to sustain a stable internet connection for an hour straight. Something about prophets not being accepted at home. In other news, I got Netflix. So, I’m not really a screen freak and prefer to look at people in the face than watch movies or series. It’s a good thing though. I finally watched the full Hangover movie, the first one. I missed the part where Tyson punched Zach Galifianakis. Don’t get it if you haven’t got a girlfriend yet though, because you’ll end up chilling for a decade and wake up old, grey and stuck to your sheets because you had nobody to chill with.

 

Where’s your daddy?

So the other day I was taking a stroll in the hood and I met this kid. She wasn’t your normal hood kid. No, she didn’t have boogers hanging from her nose or drool from last night’s messy dream tracing her cheek. No, she was clean. She didn’t even have ashy legs or dusty hair. I was very surprised. This was a marvel of nature and if I had a decent phone, I would have recorded her and shot a whole documentary based on her hygiene.

I never talk to kids for a few obvious reasons. The main reason being I have no games on my phone and even if I did I wouldn’t want a kid messing with my high scores and all. The other reason is that kids ask dumb questions and sometimes those questions are genuine. My nephew once asked me, “Uncle, A is for Apple, why is G for S?” My world shuttered, I could hear the song of my people playing and my ancestors laughing in the background. The wind stopped blowing and my flawless hair was no longer worthy of the coastal breeze. I still haven’t found an answer.

So yeah, I decided to face my fears and confront this wonder. So I took a deep breathe, then another one and another one. I still had the previous day’s stale beer on parade despite all my desperate efforts to brush my teeth. “Hi, there missus!” I had this bright smile on my face and hoped she’d reciprocate but she just looked at me once and waved with her brows. Her goddamn brows! Who waves at an adult with brows? The nerve.

Sure, I had nappy hair, shorts on and one of my body arts was showing but I still deserved some respect as a senior member of the pathway. You see, that’s the problem with light skin people; they never know how to show love to dark skins even at a tender age. I was infuriated and at one point in between the five second wave, I might have mentioned that her hair wasn’t real. I still believe it wasn’t real so I never bothered to apologize.

I swallowed my pride and picked up my ego piece by piece though some found their way onto the road never to be found again. I decided to be the bigger man in this race war and politely asked, “Where’s your daddy?” That’s when I knew I’d hit a nerve. She suddenly became all nice and pointed to some dark guy in the salon seated with a fairly hot lady. She was like tea a 10 year old would take. Hot, but not hot enough to burn you.

So yeah, that wasn’t the sperm donor. I just went and told the dad his kid can be hit by car with a cheeky grin on my face. I also saw Stella, you know yourself Stella, with a really beautiful kid that looked just like her only a few filters lighter and she never divulged whether the kid was hers or not. I’ve taken it upon myself to address this issue or story, depending on what end of the photochroma you are.

In the past two years I’ve seen the number of light skin kids on the rise but I’m not really seeing the source. It may be nothing and it may be something, I’m just speculating here. I haven’t made up any theories as to why our pigment-deficient brothers are trying to bring an end to the rise of melanin rich children.

Well, there’s a misconception that foreigners (Nigerians and Congolese men aren’t foreigners m’aam, sit your behind down) are economically endowed. Take this scenario. I like Psys Bar, at least I did until recently and spend an average of Ksh. 2500 every time I go out ( I drink beer and I have no girlfriend or boyfriend just in case you had other ideas). If I was to spend the same amount in Migori, I would be balling out of control. I’d have the Governor’s wife signing bills from my lap.

The same applies to foreigners. If that guy saves $100 every month and comes to Kenya for a week at the end of the year, you definitely are going to feel that bill. Why IPSOS hasn’t done this research should be a cause for research. This would be a great topic for social research (You’re welcome research student).

I haven’t impregnated any girl yet, accidentally or intentionally. However, whether you were trapped which is still baffling to me or had a contraceptive one size too small or ejaculated with the force of 1000 men, you need to take responsibility for your kid. And before you start defending yourself, remember what the three wise men in the bible said, “If the shoe fits, you still have to buy it because it may not be yours.”

I had the privilege of knowing both my parents and I can’t take that for granted. Moms have different reasons for not introducing their kids to the dads. Some men refused to take responsibility, others are fathers elsewhere, others aren’t supposed to be fathers but father kids in secrecy and some reasons are just selfish but there’s always a reason. Is it something right to do? I don’t know, may be the kid will turn out just fine or he or she may be a mess.

There’s a theory that was developed by a wise man, Theeone Potter called the Theory of Separation. The theory states that, Every action is relative to its environment and thus should be treated exclusively. Every kid as false as this might sound needs a father figure in their life. Your brother might be cool and have a beard but at one point, a kid needs to know who the father is. And don’t impute things in their mind. If your kid wants to forgive the father, let them and if not, that’s up to them.

I’ve had many discussions with different people and I notice that some adults still have the same notions their parents passed on to them. Kids who grew up without knowing their fathers, ladies especially, tend to either be very distrustful of men or try to hard to get a man in their life. Again, this is from my own personal experience and I did mention something about separation of issues.

This is not the 20th Century where kids had questions but only parents had the right of response and determined what questions would be asked. Let your kid know who the father is and they’ll make the decision of whether the father needs to be in their life or not. You let them google whatever they want and ask them what they want to eat for dinner so that shouldn’t be a tall order for you.

I won’t go around asking random kids where their fathers are but I think it’s imperative that all mothers make a point to introduce their kids to their fathers. If the guy denies, well and good but at least the kid will know first hand that their dad is fecal-filled butthole. And to all the moms raising kids on their own, you deserve a medal. Every dad who’s taken responsibility for their seed, kudos, keep up the good work. And to you beautiful girl reading this and thinking this might be the father to my fertile eggs, I accept the challenge.

It’s time to make resolutions

Do what you need. Image source: nwn.blogs.com
Do what you need.
Image source: nwn.blogs.com

It’s about that time of the year again when you make resolutions and promise to stop drinking till further notice; which is usually till you get paid or someone makes that “make it drizzle in your cup” call. I haven’t made any resolutions yet. I haven’t drunk alcohol throughout most of December and I can’t categorically claim that I’ve quit consuming the angel’s brew but I may be on my way there.

I’ve never been a resolution kind of guy. What are resolutions anyway? I bet designers and programmers can tell you more about resolutions than any random guy you meet in the street. Tear a piece of paper from last year’s diary because you haven’t got a free one yet and note this important point down; it may save your life. There are only two resolutions you can make; don’t make any resolution or make a resolution to keep your resolutions.

Which option would I go for? I go for the former. I don’t make any resolutions and I can tell you that’s the most important decision I made in my life. I’ve never slept better than the day I decided not to make any resolutions. Nowadays I dream in colour (key word is colour), have well-threaded suits and even hang out with girls whose faces I can see. Do you know how refreshing it is to see a girl’s face in your dream?

I’m not being a spoil sport or raining sour sauce on anybody’s parade. Resolutions don’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. There are actual human beings that make resolutions and see them through. I’m talking about fleshy, blood pumping and don’t fart lavender and cherries human beings. I’m not sure what schools they went to or who raised them but these people do exist and I laud them at every chance I get.

I read somewhere that every minute of planning saves you 10 minutes in execution. So that means if I plan for an hour, I would have saved very many hours in future. So even if you don’t see your resolutions you’ve slashed a few minutes from next year’s resolution setting ceremony. What have you resolved to do this year? Lose some weight because your skinny friend looks better in tights? Lighten your skin because dark skin stores too much energy and you’re a chilled guy?

Maybe those resolutions are too basic for you. Are you going big this year? Buy a new car because your friend drives a car he got on loan? Move into a 2 bedroom you can’t afford because you’re tired of having breakfast in bed? Date a bad bitch because she looks good on Instagram? I’m not good at resolutions so I’m running out of options here. Is there anything wrong with the aforementioned actions? Absolutely not! Why should your skin colour hold you back from getting the guy you want or making your big break in a Congolese band?

I made a resolution not to make any New Year resolutions for various reasons. The main reason is that I live everyday. Why should I wait 365 and a quarter days just to decide what I want to do? What’s with the quarter day? And when is this day? I need to show it to my boss just in case it falls on a weekday. Can’t I just wake up and start over on a random Wednesday? Do my resolutions have to be made on the 31st or 1st to have a major impact?

Isn’t there more to life? If you’ve read my blog before you probably know I’m not too religious but don’t castigate people for their faith either. But there’s more to life than a year. There are hours, days, weeks and months. You shouldn’t have to wait 52 weeks to decide you’re going to find a husband or wife. Wake up and be the person you want to be perceived as. Gyms aren’t open on the 1st only either.

If you dreamt of success last year, what changes in the remaining 364 days? If you have to make a resolution, why not make them everyday? Making a resolution is the easiest part of the maze. Keeping is the hardest bit. But the difficulty isn’t the issue here. Why are you making that resolution? To please someone? I won’t tell you it’s wrong because whatever we do is usually to gratify another party; whether it’s a supernatural being or a human being. I’m writing this because I hope someone reads it and shares their opinion with me.

What’s the goal of your resolution? Is the person you’re quitting whatever you plan on quitting going to appreciate it? Will you be offended if they don’t appreciate your effort? Or will you break down and fall farther into the pit self pity? When you resolve to love this year, love without expecting anything back and you’ll experience the true essence of love.

You probably weren’t even born on 31st or 1st; not even December or January. So why is it a new year to you? Why don’t you write down those resolutions on your birthday? Technically and literally, that is a new year for you and it’s more personal as compared to a global new year. Your extra weight wasn’t unwrapped on the 26th was it? You’ve probably carried it (or it’s carried you; use as appropriate) throughout the year so there’s no reason to be alarmed at the beginning of the year.

Appreciate every single day for the uniqueness it presents. You’re not going to get a big booty girl on every single birthday. You aren’t going to lose sleep over work everyday. Each day has its own surprises. The secret to enjoying even the little (or much) you possess is in appreciating it. We can’t all be rich and neither can we all be poor so work for what you want but be contented with whatever you have.

I’ve been promising myself I’d learn how to swim from 2009. Last year I just woke up on a random day and asked my friend to teach me how to swim. It was spontaneous and as much as I still don’t trust any level of water where my feet can’t feel the ground; I did something I had purposed to do at the beginning of 5 years but never really saw it through.

That may not be a major achievement because I don’t plan on living near any beach or riverbank in my lifetime, but at least I can hide under water for a few seconds and appear at the other end of the pool (Not the deep side). Most of the actions you wait until the end of the year to set as objectives are not necessarily time bound. It’s not like you’re trying to get a baby so you have specific days to get it done. You can stop drinking alcohol today. You can start losing weight today and hopefully by the time you recover from your brokenness you would have lost some of those extra pounds.

This year take some time out from getting offended at everything you see and keep your emotions in check. These shouldn’t be resolutions but an essential part of life. The lesser you fret about the more enjoyable life is. How do you think I survived almost 9 years in boarding in a public school being skinny? You just learn that not everything is worth responding to and sometimes it’s good to laugh at yourself. Be happy in 2016 and appreciate the simple things in life, like me.

The pain of joy (Part 2 of 2)

“Where’s that little bastard?” barked Monica’s father. “Tell me! Where is he?” Monica had never seen her father so riled in her entire life. For the second time in less than 24 hours, she was struggling to get words out of her mouth because of a man; only that this time it was in a less desirable situation. “You will tell me who that kid was one way or another! And you’re not leaving this house till I say so!” he shouted before banging the door behind him.

By the time Monica could muster enough strength to get out of bed to see if Tim had jumped through the window safely, he was in his room trembling. “What the fuck did I get myself into?” he mumbled as his fingers twitched trying to roll a blunt. He didn’t know whether to call Monica and or barricade himself inside his room. He opted for the latter.

“Where’s your mum?” asked Monica’s father after calming down. “Is this what she puts you through every time I’m gone?” Monica was torn between covering for her mum whom she had a close relationship with or try and salvage what was left of her parent’s marriage. “I asked you a question young lady!” asked her father, seemingly angry.

“I don’t know where she is. She left last night and said she’d be back but I guess she didn’t come back.” replied Monica in between tears. She could see the rage on her father’s face. He walked out of the room and she could hear him make a call from the other room. He walked back into the room and sat across her. “Get dressed.” She calmly walked to her room and prepared herself.

A short while later she was ready. All through the drive, she kept thinking to herself, “What have I done?” They pulled up to her campus. Without uttering a word, her dad walked out of the car and she followed suit, toe to toe to the Vice Chancellor’s office. She didn’t know whether her dad was getting her suspended for something that happened outside school or transferring her to another campus.

She sat pensively at the reception area as they waited for the Vice Chancellor. She couldn’t understand why her dad would go to the highest authority over such a petty issue. “Good morning Mr. Brown, sorry for the delay, I had to jump out of my window to get here,” joked the Vice Chancellor as he greeted Monica’s dad. They followed him to the office.

After sharing a few pleasantries and catching up over a cup of coffee, the Vice Chancellor turned to Monica, “I’ve heard of the little situation you had at home. What do you have to say for yourself?” She sat there crying unable to utter a word. “I know she’s not going to say a word!” retorted her dad. “I’m going to make this easy for her. Tell me who that bastard was and I’ll consider rescinding my request to have you transferred to another campus and banned from any school activities. That includes that goddamn play you’re in right now!”

All through her life, she’d never had to make such a decision. She would either have to rat out the guy she had feelings for and gave her a starring opportunity or lose the opportunity to launch her acting career. She knew her father was serious and she had to make a decision. It was between her current situation and her future. She chose her future. “His name is Tim. Tim Mavros.” She replied.

“You can leave now,” said the Vice Chancellor with a hint of disappointment in his voice. He knew Tim and held him in very high regard. Tim had just been awarded a full scholarship and his budget for a second play had been approved by the board. He couldn’t understand how such a bright prospect had got himself into such a situation.

“Mr. Brown, I know you’re pissed that this kid had the nerve to sleep with your daughter in your house,” he started in a soft voice. “As the board chairman I know you can convince other members to expel the kid or suspend him. But let’s approach this cautiously. The kid should at least get a chance to present his case. We don’t want a lawsuit which will bring unwanted attention to your family, would we?”

Monica’s father agreed to the Vice Chancellor’s request and left the office. The drive home was equally silent and nobody uttered a word. Not even a hello from the other side. By the time they got home, Monica’s mother was already home. Mr. Brown explained what had happened and pinned the blame on her for their daughter’s indiscretion.

“Can I come in?” asked Monica’s mom as she peeped through her bedroom door. Even before Monica could answer, she walked in and sat next to her. “I know this is a hard time for you. Just try to understand that your father is doing all this to make life better for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you get through that situation.”

She hugged her as Monica wept. They lay on Monica’s bed till she slept and her mother tucked her in. “Mike, that’s your daughter. You don’t need to be so hard on her. I’m used to it, but she isn’t,” said Monica’s mother as her husband walked into their bedroom.

“Too hard? Wouldn’t being pregnant as a teen be harder? I’ll sort this whole mess out tomorrow. If you were around more often maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Retorted Mr. Brown as he switched off the lights and got into bed. Their marriage was good as dead at this specific point.

As other students headed to class two weeks later, Tim was seated outside the school boardroom. “What did you do boy?” He knew that voice and those exact words. It was his father. He remained silent as his father sat beside him. His father was in his mid-forties but amazingly quite fit for man his age and would pass off for a guy in his 30s. Dressed in rugged jeans, a denim shirt folded at the sleeves and tattoos on his forearm, he was nothing close to the boy seated next to him.

As they waited for the board to come Tim told him what had transpired two weeks before. Surprisingly, his father was very easy about it. “Listen here boy; your future has nothing to do with whatever happens in that meeting. You’re way smarter than any kid I’ve met and trust me, I’ve met plenty. Whatever happens your dad is here for you. Good decision with the window though, I’d have been caught or knocked out the guy.”

For the first time in a very long while, father and son shared a laugh. At half past 9, the board was already seated and Tim and the father were called in. Immediately they opened the door, Mr. Brown’s face turned grey. He dropped the glass he was holding. Tim’s father remained rooted to the ground with his mouth agape.

Mr. Brown couldn’t believe what he was facing. Twenty six years before this meeting, Mr. Brown had a fight with his brother over a woman. To get his way, he framed his brother for a robbery and his brother was sent to prison for 3 years. By the time his brother left prison after being acquitted for lack of evidence, Mr. Brown was already engaged to the woman.

During this period, the woman had bore his brother a son whom they willingly handed over when he left prison. The two brothers never saw eye to eye and for twenty six years and had never communicated. The whole room was tense and Tim was prodding his father trying to find out what was wrong.

“Could you kindly leave Tim’s father and I for a while please,” requested Mr. Brown as the board members shuffled their way out of the room trying to speculate the reason for what they had just witnessed. Tim’s father held on to his son as everyone left the room. This was the first time Tim had seen his father’s tears.

“I..I…..I…..I’m….I’m sorry Dean,” mumbled Mr. Brown as he rose from his seat. “I know there’s nothing I can do to atone for what I did but I’m asking for your forgiveness.” At this point Tim was very confused and didn’t know why his father was crying and the board chairman was asking for forgiveness. “Two years Mike. Two fucking years behind bars! For what? A woman? Are you happy now?” Posed Tim’s dad as Mr. Brown approached him.

Mr. Brown fell to his knees and Tim could see the regret in his eyes. His father stood there without uttering a word. “What’s going on dad? Why is Mr. Brown asking you for forgiveness?” asked Tim. His father tuned to him wiping tears from his eyes and said, “This is my brother Tim.”

 

 

 

The pain of joy (Part 1 of 2)

“I don’t know why we’re doing this,” whispered Tim as Monica shut the window behind him. “Trust me, there’s no other way,” Monica replied as she sunk her face into Tim’s chest. The rain was pounding, the lights were out and Monica was home alone. Tim got off his wet clothes and sat on the edge of the bed uneasily shifting looks between the door and window.

Tim was not your typical college student. He was always at the top of his class and was actively involved in drama and music. His definition of a fun weekend involved catching up with anime and smoking js in his room. Monica was the complete opposite. She had joined college courtesy of her father’s position in the board and had barely mastered her timetable three semesters into college.

They had met in a drama class. Tim was a playwright and Monica was an aspiring actress. She saw Tim’s play, “The Faithful Mistress” as the perfect opportunity to kickstart her acting career. She landed the role of the lead actress, Dana; a housewife who was married to a rich businessman. Dana was a mother and faced a lot of torment in her marriage. Her husband was possessive and abusive. She found comfort in drinking and partying.

Depression is psychological
Depression is psychological

On one of her nights out, she met a man and after striking a rapport, they went to his place and well, as they say, the rest is history. Monica could see Dana in her mother. Her father was barely around and her mother would always find a reason to go out and return in the wee hours of the morning smelling of cheap condoms and stuffy covers. She always thought to herself, “At least she’s using protection.”

She befriended Tim to better acquaint herself with the role. Tim on the other hand, came from a single home and knew the struggle of being raised by a dad who did nothing much when it came to his kid’s affairs. In their rehearsals, Tim and Monica eventually became comfortable with each other and started sharing stories about their childhood.

Despite coming from different backgrounds, they found equilibrium in their struggles. Both of them wanted someone they could call their own. Loneliness had brought two people together. It started out with sporadic lunch dates which gradually become everyday lunch dates.

As Tim sat on Monica’s bed waiting for her to hand him a t-shirt, he thought of how he’d admired Monica months before she auditioned for his play. This was a dream to him. He was sitting on her bed in his boxers and she was bending over the dresser in a dress that could barely hide the cusp of her butt. In his mind he was already thinking of all possible scenarios but his body was scared stiff.

He reached out to his trousers and pulled out a joint. He looked up to Monica and she smiled back as she tossed a t-shirt to him. He lit the joint and took a long puff as he gestured to Monica to take one. She gladly obliged and after a few hits, they were giggling and suddenly everything was less tense.

Monica reached over Tim’s lap to pull the cover. She looked up to him and their eyes locked. She could see the desire in his eyes and he could see the passion in hers. He pulled her over and had her rest on his lap. He held her by the back of her neck and pulled her closer. He could feel her warm breath as their lips interlocked.

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Her heart was beating in synchrony with his. Monica could barely utter a word. Tim laid her on the bed and took off her dress. She saw the awe in his eyes when he first saw her bare caramel skin. It was flawlessly smooth and her perky bosom stared him in the face. The whole world was literally in front of his eyes. He could finally have his cake and eat it.

He planted his lips on her neck and she arched her back. Her body was tense and had goosebumps all over. His kisses gradually lowered over her breast and she dug her nails in his back. “Should I stop?” mumbled Tim. Monica just nodded her head in between heavy breaths encouraging Tim to go on. He gently placed his lips on her navel as she obligingly raised her legs for him to pull off her panties.

“Do you have protection?” asked Tim as he threw the laced panties on the floor. “Didn’t you carry yours? I’m safe anyway, had my periods last week.” replied Monica as she pulled Tim closer. She could feel Tim’s bulge on her crotch and both of them were hot for each other. Tim yanked his boxers and went in. Monica’s moans and the rain competed for decibels and Monica reigned supreme.

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Their bodies were finally one. Two troubled souls had come together and in their misery had found comfort and companionship. Monica wrapped her legs tightly around Tim’s waist not wanting to let an ounce of the moment go to waste. They both reached their climax and Tim lay lifeless on the bed with every bit of energy drained out of him.

Monica rested her head on his chest and none of them uttered a word. She held against him as he ran his fingers through her hair as if to assure her he was there to stay. The room was getting a bit chilly so he pulled the cover over her and after staring at the ceiling for sustained periods, they both fell asleep to the background sound of the pounding rain.

“Monica! Monica! What the hell is this?” belted out her father as his imposing figure filled the frame of the door. “I leave for one week and you’re lying naked with a random kid? Just give me a few minutes and we’ll see if this will ever happen again!” he barked as he shut the door behind him.

Tim was scared stiff and was struggling to collect his thoughts and figure out where his clothes were. He could hear Monica’s father rummaging through some drawers. He quickly grabbed one of Monica’s sweat pants and pulled a t-shirt from the dresser.

“You’ll know to mess with my daughter,” shouted Monica’s father as he barged into the room holding a gun.