Zurikiki

Zurikiki is a blog about memories. Zuri– what I intend to name my daughter, and Kiki, that hero- boy who could take on our childhood bully, Tony, anytime and win.

Zurikiki is a journey of self-discovery. A journey of redemption and healing from past hurts. A journey of flaws and imperfections from which something pure occasionally emanates from. A journey of laughter and tears.

Zurikiki is about baring the soul and experiencing with art; words, notes, etc. while unfettered to the demands of an unyielding editor.

Zurikiki is about answering to the urges of the inner child when everything was possible. Thus I can sing even though the music teacher said I was hopeless; I can draw even if I am a wreck in that department; and I can dance even though my bones creak like an old lorry going uphill.

Zurikiki is about Ibra, Shiku, Coast… places and people who have made me who I am today. It’s an appreciation of the beautiful land that we call Kenya for the opportunities and the stories she has bequeathed to me thus far.

Ultimately, Zurikiki is about freedom.

 

Critique, enjoy and share.





Neighbours

“Hi guys. Have you heard the news? Mandela is dead?” Ronaldo dropped the shocker on us. The year was 1998, a week after the August bomb blast in Nairobi Kenya. It really was a bad month for us. See, when the news of the bombing was announced on the radio, 1pm news bulletin, Essendi’s mother

The ward manager (or how get elected and re-elected)

Sometimes fate conspires to thrust an ordinary mortal into the limelight. Perhaps, gifting him fortune, fame or ignominy. Such a mortal was Jackson Kizengwe. Before his fame, Jackson Kizengwe was just another face in the sea of humanity that is Plot Kijiji. This Plot Kijiji, a series of low-cost one- and two-roomed iron sheets shacks.

The jealous kind

So, we are an item. Casually, just like that. See, I have moved into this new neighbourhood. Felt like I was suffocating in my old one – same old, same old. Same old people. Same old stories. Same old happenings. I really needed to inject some vitality in my life in the form of new

A 32” inch story

This story begins on a Friday. To be precise, the Friday just before Jamhuri Day on Monday. You know how it goes; a lazy day at the office, prepping up for the coming Christmas holidays…. The year has moved so fast, but then again, it is refusing to end. So, you resist a colleague’s offer




Surviving hate

The first rule of surviving hate Is to be like hate, speaking like hate Louder and longer Own the hate and survive it. To survive hate, you must be ready To lose your conscious and your mind Your desires and your will Embrace hate as a brother. And as the hate gnaws at your soul

The paper bag man

With the paper bag ban The paper is divorced from the man And the man needs to bag another wife For his wife has banned him from all things sweets Sugar bags and pineapples and all things cookies. The government tells him to go green And this has put his mind on a loop Green

She loves

Her laughter, it disturbs High pitched, creepy Smacks of vice and lust First impressions… But when the heart stills Listens, unclouded There is pain in the laughing Tears waiting to be shed. She loves. She loves, this feeling, she cannot understand She loves his gaze, his way with words His way with her, how comely,

The Wall

For some The wall is Security For others The wall is Oppression Your pick is An accident of birth.







3E vs 3S: Petty Nairobi politics

As we count down to August 8th, 2017 when Kenyans vote en masse, Nairobi is split right down in the middle. On the red corner is the youthful and flashy Mike Sonko and his troops, while on the blue corner (more of orange, really) is the stoic Evans Kidero and his brigade. In short, 3E

Superdad (to the tune of ‘Superdad’, 2 ½ Men)

Dad, on weed, high as a kite Thought he was superman, picked a fight Got a black eye dark as night 50 miles per hour, was his flight. On that night, he gave us such a fright With sleight of hand, became a knight His step sprite, his alibi airtight Such a sight to see

Shake It Up Combo manenos

What is your weekend plan? If you are a typical Kenyan, then you live for the weekend. Know the drill? Monday blues. Tuesday catching up on work. Wednesday crush things. Thursday throwbacks… on to Saturday.  The plan: nyama choma with lots of kachumbari, football, a cold frothy beverage… Well, Steers is now pumping a little

Men, women and friendships

The scenario: Imagine you are the fifth chap to board a matatu. Inside it, randomly located, are three ladies and two gentlemen. The matatu sits 33 people. Where will you seat? If you are a guy, you will probably look for the two or three adjacent seats which are unoccupied and sit on one. If




Wanjohi: The Drinkard

THE DRINKARD Characters Wanjohi: A perpetual drinkard/drunkard Wacuka: His beautiful wife Rev. Githingithia: Pastor of the Revived and Reformed Fimbo ya Kumchapa Shetani Church of Latter Day Prophets of East Africa i.e. RAS CLOPEA Dr. Mashida Mingi: A medicine man from Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania Prof. Hellen Irving: A marriage counsellor, Ph.D. Wa Mucene: Wacuka’s bosom friend

Wahusika

  WAHUSIKA Kombo : Waziri wa Kawi, Mhoihoi   Bi Ugomvi : Mkewe Kombo, Mhoihoi   Mjuaji : Binamuye Kombo   Bw. Tembo : Mzee wa Kijiji   Bi. Fitina : Mkewe Tembo   Msomi : Mwanawe Kombo   Fukara : Mwanawe Mjuaji   Jadi Mwalimu (J.M.) : Aliyekuwa mwalimu wa fasihi wa Msomi na




Charity begins not at home

A whiff of sewage. A strong whiff of raw sewage is what hits you as you go past the junction of Suna Road and Joseph Kangethe Road- a few metres off what was formerly the Nairobi Winners Chapel and adjacent to the extension of Toi Market where fresh produce is being vended. Now, this stretch

sKEndalsylvaNYA: Betraying the Kenyan National Anthem

They give new meaning to the phrase ‘putting forward one’s best foot’. Sinewy and agile, keeping abreast with the pacemaker, trudging mile after mile under the scorching sun or the biting cold, aiming for the ultimate prize… the Olympic gold; paid for in blood, sweat and tears. They run for glory, pride written all over

The shame that is living in Dagoretti

Recently, my grandma was to visit me to see and bless her new-born great-grandson. Now, I live in Dagoretti in one of those villages with a funny name- Kanungaga. Kanungaga borders Gatina Village, with Macharia Road separating the two. From town, you board a Route 56 matatu at Railways, where touts, as they scramble for

Yes, there are still ‘husband material’ bachelors in Kenya

I am writing in response to Karimi Gatimi’s (Wife speak) friend’s quip that they are no longer any bachelors worth turning into husbands in Kenya. Girl child empowerment and boy child neglect aside, I’d like to register my disappointment at her stereotypical assertion which, unfortunately, is shared by a majority of the womenfolk in the




Ala C- Kama wimbo: A review

Mi nakatika nakatika mi nakatika… Miaka inavosonga nazidi kuwa mzae Inabidi kupanga maisha ya baadaye Mi nsaka nyumba iko wapi pesa Mi nataka pia gari; Mi nasaka mchumba Yuko wapi mwenza; Mi nataka pia kumarry… (As the tears pass by, old age is creeping on me I realise I have to plan for my future

Barracuda 945

What would happen if terrorists were able to access a nuclear submarine that is virtually undetectable? Patrick Robinson, the author, submerges us into such a possibility with this riveting thriller that is Barracuda 945. From the conversion of Major Ray Kerman, highly skilled SAS operative, into General Ravi Rashood, HAMAS commander on a revenge mission,

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

“MONDAY morning found Tom Sawyer miserable. Monday morning always found him so — because it began another week’s slow suffering in school. He generally began that day with wishing he had had no intervening holiday, it made the going into captivity and fetters again so much more odious.” The first paragraph of Chapter Six is

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