“Agie si unajua wewe ni my dear sweerie!” Kavevi asked me as we were fastening our seatbelts. Our shuttle from Kisumu to Nairobi was about to take off when I noticed my brown leather belt on her waist.

“Surely Kavevi unajua venye nimetafuta iyo belt?”

“Shhhhh! Sasa unashout ndio watu waskie? Agie kipenzi!” She grinned.

“Toa belt yangu…..saii!”

“Agie surely! Na venye tumetoka far? Who will take care of you when you are old and grumpy kama si mimi?” She asked, wearing her cute puppy eyes which I always have a difficulty saying no to.

“Tsk!” I tried to put stern face.

“Usikasirike sweerie! Si we are family!” she replied playfully pinching my checks. Aaaargh! How annoying.

“Agie huwezi kumwia mwenzio radhi! Jameni!” Nyawanda chimed in with her fluent Swahili. These two always gang up against me. Surely! The belt is mine! But after looking keenly at Kavevi ears I noticed her earrings and asked,

“Kavevi are those my earrings?”

Anybody who can recommend a book that will help me deal with my tall small sister? My missing earrings are always miraculously found in her Gram or WhatsApp selfies and every time I confront her, all I get is a gazillion hugs accompanied with sweet words and the worst part is that the earrings end up being hers! Hii ni juju aki!

After the long journey, we slept at my place because we got to the city a little too late to go to Kitengela. This was the first time my sisters were visiting my hacienda and Kavevi tells me that ever since she slept at my place she has had to deal with mum’s unending interrogations of how my place was. She wants to know every detail about my house like, do people breathe oxygen or carbon dioxide at my house? She has never visited my hacienda despite my numerous invites. I imagine one of the interrogations sessions was something like this:

Mum has just finished her supper then she asks Kavevi to get her drinking water. Kavevi who is watching her favorite soap, gets up after three reminders from mum. So mum asks her as she hands in the glass of water:

“How was Agie’s house?”

“Ilikuwa tu poa!”

“Mlikula nini huko?”

“Nyama.”

“Na?”

“Ati” By now, Kavevi has gone back to her seat and is struggling to balance her attention between mum and the TV while wondering how come her mother is not a journalist yet she is always asking many questions.

Nyama na nini? Mum asks impatiently.

“Spaghetti.”

“Yaani huyu Agie anaweza kuafford kuwanunulia nyama yet she comes to shop in my kitchen like a church mouse?”

“Hahaha! Aki mum surely kwani ulikuwa unataka tukule nini?” She faces mum.

“Ugali na mboga!” Mum chuckles.

“Agie alitutreat poa sana. Na ujue kwake hakuna lectures zako mum” Kavevi naughtily chortles.

“Hahaha! Oh please! (there is a short awkward silence before mum asks) “By the way, was there any sign of male habitation?” My mum is the queen of genteelism.

“As in?” Kavevi pretends to seek clarification.

“Like a man’s shirt or shoes?”

“Hahaha! Mum!”

“Unacheka nini?”

“Ati male habitation? Lakini mum wewe!

“Jibu swali wacha porojo!” Mum insists.

I suspect zilikuwa, but Agie alizificha vizuri si unamjua tu?” Kavevi can be such a sellout. A text message notification interrupts their conversation and as Kavevi reaches out for her phone, mum asks giggling:

“Is that Moffat?” ‘Moffat’ is the euphemism for ‘boyfriend’ our household is full of euphemisms, don’t ask why we chose Moffat, issa long story.

“Aki wewe surely!” That’s Kavevi’s usual response every time anyone asks her about her boy……sorry Moffat.

In short, Mum, just come and see the house for yourself.

Anyhu, today I am celebrating the 50^th copy on this blog. It will be turning a year old next week (how time flies) and I can’t help but reflect. You know, the very first piece I ever wrote for public consumption was a celebrity gossip script which I did for a TV show during my industrial attachment. The then script writer, Immaculate Magawa, was running late on that day so she asked me if I could write something for the show and I told her it was cool. Deep down a sister was nervous as hell! I almost shit bricks when she walked in a few minutes to the show and asked me to give her a copy so that she could go through it before submitting it to the producer and director. To my utter surprise, she said the script was OK and that it would go on air unedited. She became my teacher and biggest fan. That’s how I became the script writer for that segment till the end of my attachment. Those were some good old days I tell you! Imma, as we called her, made me believe in my writing. We’d go for gigs and she would introduce me as a creative. The first time she called me that, I was dumbfounded. She believed in me before I believed in myself. Imma wherever you are, I celebrate you mami. We should have coffee someday. Or kavodo hahaha! Your call my dear.

To be honest this blog has changed my life. It has made me more disciplined because I have to post up every Tuesday by 10:00am come rain come shine. Through it, I was able to mourn my father, there is something incredibly assuaging about writing my feelings down. On bad days, I read the comments on my blog and feel better. It has made my family members and friends restrain themselves around me because they are scared of being anikwad on the blog, as if this is a hanging line! Cheeii! My blog has enabled me make new friends. The very first story I did on this blog, The Agent, got only 14 views and I was worried about that number, but God has been good and the stats have improved greatly ever since. That is why am grateful to each one of you who spare time and brain cells to read my musings. Thanks to those who point out typos and share those screenshots on WhatsApp, Vivian Oyoo and Aunty Atis hehehe! This is the month of love so when I get sendimendo because of the love you guys have showed me, I can be forgiven right? No? Anyway, I have a gift for you loves and it is up there on the cover photo. A tbt of mine with a killer smile. Nilichagua yenye iko na dimple fam (utaskia hater akisema iyo ni photoshop, *coughs*Willies*coughs*). Guys, that is how I smile whenever I read your comments and see the growing stats. Keep reading, keep sharing and keep correcting because I’m learning every day. Also, my dimple is up for sale, si guys can sell their organs? I need money to pay for an editor for this blog, buy my mother and sisters the many things I have promised them and also pay the boyfriend I hired for Valentine ’s Day hehehe! OK nimewacha.

Do you guys remember our cat Jay Jay? Apparently it is male. It recently fathered 5 kittens who unfortunately died a few days after birth before we could get lawyers to fight for the custody of the kittens. How sad!

Alafu one more thing, blog imesema inataka keki for its birthday, si mimi ni blog. And please, if you have a habit of not pronouncing the ‘r’ in ‘February’ tafadhali iyo tabia uikome! Ni hayo tu guys.