My neighbour’s cat is using me

I’m sorry guys I have not updated the blog recently because I have been busy and generally lacked motivation.

But that does not mean that I escaped the usual daily drama. No, I’m actually contemplating giving the Kardashian a run for their money. I need a reality show. Just scroll down and tell me if you’d watch my reality show…..

I need a pet

The last time I had a pet was in 1997 when my grandpa handed me down his beloved dog Kisang’ule. I might have forgotten to feed him and he moved in with the neighbours or something like that. But recently I have fallen in love with my European neighbours live stock. And when I talk about live stock am referring to their cats and dogs.

The neighbor’s cat has become so friendly to a point he comes to my house to eat. And immediately he is done, he  just meows me to let him out of the house after eating my water melon. I feel used and it is for that reason that I will buy my own pet. A hen. I will walk my hen every evening and even recruit it to hen kindergarten. I hope they can vaccinate it so that I can take it in the bus with me. I feel so empowered by such thoughts. I’m a genius!

Excuse me, I’m a robot!

These thoughts come at a time when owning a dog in Kenya is now a status symbol. Do you know how long my family owned dogs? In 1934, my grandpa landed in Ngong, from Kilungu armed with nothing but his dog Kisang’ule. Kisang’ule survived on left overs. In fact, wakati wa kiangazi, that poor dog ate guavas and avocados. And no one bothered to interview him!

Speaking of animals, I see Jaguar and Babu Owino tried to wrestle each other in parliament. Such a shoddy job. Kenyan parliament needs to give us something better than the Ugandans. Put us on the world map. One Ugandan Mp even did a spin on the table while another one blocked a chair that was thrown at him like Bruce Lee. And where did that get them? On Trevor Noah’s show on Comedy Central. You can’t just bite and spit on each other. What are you? Pythons? Shie!


I don’t like stressing about Kenyan politics drama and that’s why I like spending my spare time in the gym sweating off the anxiety.  So committed that the other day I taught a Jamaican to pronounce the word cucumber. I could not take it anymore because every time he spots me we have to discuss bloodclat vegetables, MAUMAU and Bomboclat. I don’t know what most of our conversations are about but I try to keep up. But what is: ‘kakamba?’ It’s cucumber my friend.

See such moment redeem my embarrassing moments from previous gym sessions. Can you believe I recently  lost my limbs in that same gym?  I was doing my usual set of heavy squats (Lower body is my strength) then some English bloke challenged his friend who was squatting less than a 1/4 of my weights. Ego boost my guy. Then small talk in between sets. Me, narrating how I killed a lion using my mothers cooking spoon, swam with sharks in Tana River and taught a monkey to speak Japanese. I was really feeling myself. At some point, I felt like my dreadlocks had also developed muscle.

Then I finished my set and decided to return the plates. This is where things went downhill. My ego was all over the place so I was even arranging the plates like I’m the only one who can do it in the whole world. I didn’t even realise that the plate holder was too weak until it fell off and all plates were on top of me. Whole gym came to a standstill, even the receptionist came to evacuate me. When I say everyone helped, that includes the guy who was lifting less than me. I don’t know if this gym will renew my membership!

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