#IWENTTOALLIANCE

Having gone to Bush attracts a great deal of frenemies. Those that expect you to be a millionaire by association, like the more famous old boys that found themselves part of the post-independence kleptocracy. Or those that are loaded, influencial or holding more senior positions because of their hard work and other factors.

They'll happily quote you as a reference point on how it's inconsequential to have gone to Alliance because they've 'made it', despite not attending the school, by whatever success rulebook (mostly money) they subscribe to. 

I was once mocked by a boss, who sardonically quipped..." Wapi ule mutu wa Alliance"? Not that I ever flaunted my alumnus (as has been commonly and sarcastically depicted of us) but because someone made it their business to investigate where I schooled, as I appeared to stand up for something. That standing up something is actually a hallmark of Busherians!

Going to Alliance is clearly another original sin - a blemish you carry by association. A two-edged sword that can attract benefits or disdain depending on where you find yourself in this capitalistic economy. 

May the spirit of Carey Francis descend in human form to save us, those who carry the brunt of the AHS.

On reaching heaven's gates, just like the tormented Arsenal fans, we may need to make a case of how we deserve a special consideration. For we've already suffered enough mockery and ostracism while on planet earth!

But one thing stands: #IWentToAlliance 😜

SPONSORS DAY

We should have a Sponsor National Appreciation Day to celebrate this category of faceless philanthropists, who continue to offer critical economic support to the young, and sometimes not-so-young, folks while maintaining a measure of anonymity in the modern highly digitized social space. 

A Sponsor will come through with the household expenses, school fees, garments, holidays, even support kids that are not theirs; some heavyweights will even support the sponsored person's siblings, parents and in rare cases boyfriends/girlfriends. 

I remember a very consensual but lopsided arrangement by a young couple known to me a while back. The Sponsor, a prominent businessman in a rural town would regularly come to pick the girl from her bedsitter abode that he has komboad for her. On some occasions he would chance in on her good-for-nothing live-in mogoka-chewing, kumikumi-addicted boyfriend, who depended on the girl for his upkeep. I'm not sure what she got from him in return. Maybe he was a good cook, but I digress. Back to the sponsor's visit...no blows or harsh words were ever exchanged. The young man had been introduced to him as a relative and was willing to keep up the appearances as such. They would all get into the big-bellied chap's plush ride and drive off to sample the town's nightlife. The young man, I suppose out of his own volition or as a result of severe economic emasculation, would be dropped outside a popular nightclub that he loved and would be handed a generous clubbing stipend, while the ageing alpha male would proceed to his preferred evening hangout with the girl for a night of viagra-fuelled carousal. 

Of course a scenario like the one above is an exception, though certainly very likely. For many others, it could lead to brutal crimes of passion and requires tracks to be well covered. That is why an uncomfortable and inquisitive boyfriend will be told that the new VW Golf was purchased through a bank loan, and the bank is holding on to the logbook as security. Or the jewelry was a gift at the workplace for exemplary performance. A girlfriend will be calmed by being told that the older woman who keeps calling is a spiritual mentor, whose calling is to mentor young men. At times, at the instigation of the Sponsor, a girl will engineer beef with her partner and refuse to be calmed down. She may then ask for 'time apart' that weekend 'to think things over'. The trusting boy will unknowingly hand his girl a visa to spend the weekend with her sponsor at the Great Rift Lodge. Being 'mad', she will of course ignore his calls and texts and will have cooled off by Sunday evening to 'talk things over' and accept his profuse apologies. 

Sponsors never make it to the Instagram posts, yet they unselfishly (well, not quite) provide the pecuniary facilitation. Sometimes it may be out of choice, since their sons and daughters ply the same digital space and delicate balances may get upset. Sometimes the sponsored entity may feel some discomfort consorting with their friends' mothers, fathers or relatives and feel the need to keep things under wraps. Sometimes it could be a lecturer or a boss which can lead to conflicts of interest, a cleric, politician or other public figures, giving the more reason why utmost discretion must be exercised. 

Whatever the reason you have for keeping Mr. or Ms. Sponsor under the radar, it's imperative that we all remain cognizant of the contribution they make to our fragile economy, where unemployment figures keep soaring, and honor them with a day or a week. 

The legal heads, who constitute a handsome portion of the sponsor fraternity, can guide us on how to lobby the lawmakers (who are on the top of the sponsoring food chain) to give this cog of Kenya's economy due recognition.

THE FLYING FAN

She walked across the room butt naked, casting suggestive glances in his direction, but he kept his eyes glued to his phone, trying to catch the dying minutes of the match. It was a fast-paced match, both teams in their element. The passes were delivered magically, with precision and the midfielders were dribbling confidently, supplying balls and seeking openings. The defenders were not relenting. It looked headed to a stalemate. 

But sometimes this doesn't hold for long. It's in games like this where footballing genius is displayed through sheer individual effort. Or footballing blunders. Both which can determine outcomes of such tight games. He wasn't about to miss this magic, not even to this horny spider-shaped nymph that was his girlfriend.

Undeterred, she continued with her Jezebellic sexual wiles, this time laying besides him, sighing loudly and pouting. He briefly looked at her, unseeing and unsympathetic to her sexual agony. Arsenal had hypnotized him. He was remotely aware of her presence, but all attention was on another powerful attacking build up by his beloved Arsenal. Mechanically, and by sheer force of habit, he ran one hand across her bare chest, his eyes still locked on his phone screen, consumed by the Emirates atmosphere. 

She mistook this as a cue and huddled herself closer to him, caressing his member tenderly. But the member too was a die-hard Arsenal fan. There was no sign of life there. She made for his zipper, eager to awaken the dead. That is also the moment when Arsenal scored! 

Evolutionary research has discarded any possibility that our species could have - milions of years ago -possessed the ability to fly. In most recorded mythologies that involve flying, like the Icarus one, the crafters were cognizant of this shortcoming and therefore ensured that some mechanical effort was employed to achieve this fete. Be it wings attached to the body, or a flying chariot, man has never nurtured the thought that their forbearers could fly unsupported. Even angels, who exist in the realm of spirituality, are not considered to be human.

But his girlfriend swears to this day that she saw the man flying in celebration. One moment she was on his zipper preparing to awaken the dead, the next his rotund frame was airbone, for about ten metres, landing heavily besides the kitchen. His phone with him. He landed safely but the phone did not, with pieces scattering all over. 

He could not watch the rest of the match on TV, as there was a power outage. He could not rush to the nearest sports bar, as there was only about six minutes left to the end of the game. So he called the game in Arsenal's favor prematurely, sad that he could not post his usual social media taunts to his friends as is the tradition. But thoroughly overjoyed.

And that is how his attention finally shifted to his pretty girlfriend. In his upbeat and celebratory mood, and despite the damage to his phone, he managed to pack a massive boner, unaided.

He quickly turned to her, ready for the three minute carnal odyssey that she had relentlessly pursued during such a critical match!

He was to post later that night on his social media page..."I told you we are Arsenal, we only win when we want!"

They had drawn 1:1, thanks to a defender's tackle in the final seconds of the game, that earned their opponents an equalizing penalty.

THE LANGUAGE FALLACY

Someone once quipped that English is not a measure of intelligence. In English.

This train of thought became quite popular -without a doubt representing what many may have probably wanted to say but lacked the words to frame the thoughts, or the confidence to defend them. I began to see it in social media posts and statuses and even, on a few occasions, as graffiti on toilet walls. 

Was it a way or expressing contempt at what is seeing as the language of the imperialist, I wondered? Or was it a general assertion that mastery of any language is in no way brainy, hence cannot be used to measure intelligence? I'll assume it's the latter.

A case scenario: we have a kid whose first language is English, stacked against a kid who is beginning to learn English in grade 1 of school (after 5 years of communicating in vernacular). It's clear at this point that there could be a general bias on who of the two is 'intelligent'. But by the time these two individuals are done with high school, their grasp would not be far apart, assuming they went to the same schools.

Suppose a group of young men and women fitting the above archetypes gave speeches or wrote treatises on a similar subject, chances are that there would be an outstanding one who would mesmerize you. Much like the analogy of rising cream.

Some aspects of their speech or writing would most likely employ tools that require creativity and a technical application. This is where an intelligent mind stands out.

I'm not a linguist but since I'm a human with communication capabilities through language I hereby pen my pedestrian observations of how above average intelligence is manifested in language.

A mastery in the choice of words, syntax, semantics, synonyms, antonyms and all the -nyms that exist. A rich thesaurus of words to apply in transforming thought into word. Correct use of scintillating expressions, idioms and application of current and historical examples. Use of irony, sarcasm, satire and wit in speech and the written word. Vivid descriptions of people, places and events. Use of rhymes, alliteration and other tools in poetry, music and general language application. Coining new words that end up becoming universally accepted, leading to the growth of the language.

This is the differentiator folks, doesn't matter the language.

 

Intelligent people will write books and articles that stir imagination, inspire people, forment revolutions, cause cultural changes and define generations. *Irregardless* of the language used. They thrill, they scare, they humor, they captivate, they incite, they disgust. They plant seeds of love, hate, rebellion in their listener's heads.

No wonder the pen is always mightier than the sword. A warrior's brute force is no match for a writer's imagination.

That's why Charles Dickens is revered as a master of description. That's why Shakespeare has consistently been honored as the number 1 Briton.

That's why political leaders with the gift of gab can lead a nation to doom or prosperity.

So next time you see graffiti suggesting that proficiency in a language is not a measure of intelligence, blame it on that intelligent person who planted that in the minds of willing followers but did not leave them with a critical defense for that argument. And write below it that: 

"It is! Give your arguments why it's not"

Or just screenshot my post and leave them to ruminate.

DEBT RECOVERY

How do you cope with the indignity of asking for your money from people who happily borrowed or used your services but have now gone Birdbox when the time to honor their pecuniary obligations comes? I've just watched someone raise an ugly scene. She worked in this pub but got laid off during the pandemic. They had her salary arrears which they promised to pay once things looked up.

Well things seem to be looking up. The pub is having a sizeable crowd of patrons but the owner has- like he has done so many other times in the last 5 months - told her that he cannot pay her arrears since things are not looking up. She lost it this time, got hysterical and told everyone who cared to listen how she's on the edge, her house locked up by the landlord and her kids unable to go to school.

She recounted the many trips She's made here, following up on her money and receiving endless promises that are never honoured.

As a final nail on the coffin, she's reminded the bar owner of the numerous times he used to mount her on a stack of beer crates after doing the stock take for the night.

To avoid further embarrassment, the proprietor fished out 5000 bob from his wallet, hurled at her, while promising to sue for defamation. And she was gone.

Some people only pay their debts after being dragged through the mud 😐

STAY SAFE OLD-TIMERS!

Retirees are defiantly going into sexual combat with 25 yr olds, knowing fully well the attendant risks. You'd think the stories of their fellow senior citizens dying during coitus- which have been amplified by the media -would deter their drug-induced lust. But wapi, it seems the mantra is 'I'm going in. If I die, I die!'

The fear of death never stopped many a gallant soldier from going into battle for a cause they believed in. It won't stop an ageing sexual tourist from venturing into the energy-sapping chambers of a nymphomaniac. And that's how natural attrition works. A percentage of the populace is always ambivalent to danger, thus accelerating their death. 

That's why you'll meet people who won't wear masks despite the prevailing risks. That's why a bodaboda guy will cut across a moving truck or train. That's why a pickpocket will take the risk knowing fully well that he could be lynched. That's why some chase that adrenaline rush in high risk activities.

Geriatrics won't stop carvoting with spring chicken. The only practical solution is to beseech their much younger mates to handle the wazee gently. Ensure to know if he has a medical condition, if he's taken his drugs and if the blue pill he's using was endorsed by his doctor. If possible carry a checklist and have him sign an indemnity that protects you from blame in case of any eventuality. But above all handle him with kid gloves. Pamper his ego, even if the strokes are weak and his member semi-turgid, to avoid him seeking performance enhancing substances that are potentially fatal.

Please learn some first aid techniques and ensure to keep some medical emergency numbers, that you can call kikiumana. Instead of fleeing the scene.

Happy humping!

VEXATIOUS BUFFOONS

What is a vexatious buffoon? It's a buffoon alright, but one who knows and relishes being one, to the irritation of those around them.

One who feels ordained to exercise their vexatious nature on the people around them. The more they vex the more they draw satisfaction of having a profound impact. It does not matter the subject or place -they'll run roughshod over others, outshout everyone, ignore advice and wield a massive bolus of negative energy. They are mostly crass, pompous and conceited.

Prominent ones in our society include a certain unsmiling professor to whom we've entrusted the future generation to - he loves issuing edicts that are not only poorly thought out, but also sound and feel like they're designed to cause extreme annoyance. 

Another is a mustached irritant who seems to have arrogated himself the role of a moral policeman and ombudsman to every song, film, advertisement or joke in this our land and nation. He actively courts controversy and any attacks on him only embolden him further. 

How could I forget the exiled and self-styled revolutionary general who bashes and dresses down even those sympathetic to his cause? Vexatious buffoon extraordinaire! 

Internationally, the crown would go to the former TV personality, casino magnate, property guru and golden shower enthusiast, who became a president, only to later leave the office acrimoniously.

Vexatious buffoons are ubiquitous in all cadres of the society -corporate offices, residential neighborhoods, schools, churches, temples, bars, public transportation, government offices, TV shows, WhatsApp groups na kadhalika. 

Easily discernible, they wear that know-it-all countenance, share their 'truths' condescendingly and enjoy destroying opinions shared by others. They revel in getting praises from their contemporaries and superiors. Puffed up and irascible, they require an advanced level of emotional intelligence to tolerate and interact with them.

Some, through concerted efforts by those around them or after finding themselves isolated, have unlearned their reprehensible traits. 

However majority still carry them stoically as a badge of honor, in the mistaken belief that they're martyrs who will get vindicated with the passage of time.