ZE BRODAS & I (IV)
I recently bought this lip balm that has brought me nothing but immense joy. It has this sweet fruity scent that tempts me to bite off a piece whenever I whip it out hohoho! I sometimes go to the bathroom just to smell and reapply it, even when my lips are not dry. Every time I remember that I have a wonderful lip balm to my name, an enigmatic ebullience fills my heart. It is just heaven sent considering, I reacted badly to a lip product I was using before. It’s down side however, is that it dries up a bit quicker than my previous balms but I do’t mind reapplying it all the time as it leaves my lips moisturized, with a subtle but heavenly red tint. It’s just amazing my people! I love it and I just had to waste your time and brain cells with that piece of information.
I have been following the conversation on #paymodelske initiated by model Sheila Kanini, and the allegations are appalling as they are horrendous! From the popular ‘exposure’ currency to forced prostitution and homosexuality to lack of or delayed payments among others. A number of modeling and casting agencies and big Kenyan brands involved in this joke have been mentioned. Honestly, I can’t help but wonder, when did we become beasts? When did people start treating others as things that they can use and dump?Asking models to pay for auditions? Taking 10 months to pay the models? Ati some male models have had to flash the homo card to get gigs? (I hope this one is a joke) Paying people KDF and uji? Really? The fuck? The fucking fuck? The actual fucking fuck? When I was younger, I did activation jobs, I used my good looks (but do I say) to make money and I can tell you for free, those agencies used to rip us off. Like I remember one activation we did for the launch of a sports magazine and we were paid half the money stipulated on the contract. I was pissed as hell!
Also, I have ever worked for exposure and it was the most unfulfilling writing gig ever! Recently, I was shocked to find an email from the exposure payer asking me to pick up the conversation! As in, this entrepreneur, wanted me to go back for more exposure! Aaaii! Kwani am I invisible? I think entrepreneurship is one of the most glamorized things in our country. No one tells young entrepreneurs of it’s dark side. It’s high time people learn that, if you can’t afford someone’s services, then don’t ask for them! The last time I checked, exposure can’t pay rent, it can’t buy you a book, it can’t even get you a 200 bob KPLC token, the damn currency can’t even pay your 20 bob Okoa Jahazi debt c’mon! In this city, everyone’s tryna get paid! Ka si ganji au biashara, nani tembeeeeeza!
But guys, (calm down Agnes), this is not a rant but the last part of Ze Brodas series, so where were we? At the club, which we left after a good night out. This holiday had a number of firsts for me like I milked a cow for the first time (don’t roll your eyes) and it was a great experience. I also got to taste Cecil’s lemonade and it was the most refreshing drink ever! Ze brodas came through for me when I was at the brink of self-destruction. We should plan another adventure soon guys. I may make jokes, but their actions of kindness touched my soul to the core. You know, I still laugh when I remember some chic in church who obviously liked Don, the way Paul had his sweeg on every time we went out, Paul’s Nigerian accent (which needs work, I will give you lessons dear, I got you) and how Cecil was announcing to everyone that Jaslippers was my official Migori bae. There was this one time when I was at the back seat of the car and Paul was giving Don some refresher course on driving a manual car. So there was a chic with a blessed back side walking ahead of us and Paul kept telling Don to focus and not check out the back side credentials of this chic. That killed me!
Today, I will finalize this series with our trip to Rusinga Island. By this time, we were joined by my uncle (Cecil’s dad) and Winnie and Wendy (Cecil’s twin younger sisters) also Cecil was not with us, he’d left for Kisumu some days earlier. We left Migori hoping to catch a ferry ride from Mbita to Luanda Kotieno, then drive to Kisumu for Beryl’s (my cousin) graduation party. Remember when going to Migori, we’d missed the ferry so this time we were not taking any chances. My uncle is a teacher and you know teachers, they love to show case their rich knowledge so as you can imagine, this journey was filled with lots of History and Geography lessons. Plus at some point I felt like my uncle was showing off but you know Luos hehehe!
We got to Mbita only to find the ferry leaving, how unfortunate! But upon inquiry, we were reliably informed that there would be one last ferry trip for the day, thank God! My uncle in his utmost kindness offered to take us for a trip around the nearby Rusinga Island to see the Tom Mboya Mausoleum as we waited for the ferry. The Island which was declared a hardship area by the government is relatively small. We drove through its dusty murram roads and before getting to the mausoleum, we got to Tom Mboya Boys Secondary School which was built in his honor. At the Mausoleum, we were received by Paul Ndiege, our facilitator who also happens to be the late Tom Mboya’s small brother. He took us around explaining everything with great detail. The mausoleum was built in the shape of a bullet to symbolize how the fallen hero died. It preserves some of his valuable possessions like a dancing cup he received from Nairobi Dancers Association, his black fly whisk and the briefcase he was carrying on the day of his assassination among other items. I was also impressed to find out that Mboya was a staunch catholic and that his wedding to his wife Pamela Mboya was officiated by a pope.
Outside the mausoleum was his grave and beside it was the grave of a great friend of his who requested to have his remains cremated and buried next to Mboya’s gave. Paul Ndiege’s was beaming with pride when talking about his brother. He still seemed a bit bitter on the political injustices that happened during the regime in which his brother was killed. His brother was a great leader, a man who stood for what he believed in, unlike the kind of politicians we have today. A man who oozed charm and grandiloquence enough to make him the first African to grace the cover of Time Magazine. There was something inspiring about Mboya’s story that made me want to start writing for a cause, stand for something you know…
We left the mausoleum and by the time we got to Mbita, the ferry was back for the last trip. While other people got in and took seats (probably because they are used to ferry rides), we went straight to the sailor’s room (I don’t know how it is called) at the top. The ferry attendants were a bit hesitant to let us in but let me tell you, a genuine smile can open doors, especially mine and Paul’s hehehe! We met the sailor who introduced himself as Captain Oluoch, The Great. OK, I added ‘The Great’ but it sounds cool that way, huh? Because we are such millennials we borrowed him his binoculars and took tons of photos with it, we even asked if we could have photos holding the wheel and he had no problem, such a cool dude. The gang might not admit it but it is my smile that got us all those favors from the captain, facts only! Since, I can be such a pain, I asked the captain some annoying questions like, “What would happen if this ferry broke down in the middle of the journey? And he responded smiling, “There are always engineers on board to fix any breakdown!” captain, hope I did not annoy you with my many questions, but let’s just be honest, you liked my smile so we are even hehehe! OK nimewacha!
Finally, we got to Luanda Kotieno safely and rushed to Kisumu for Beryl’s graduation party. I call her ‘Bero.’ She hates that name but I don’t care hehehe! I also call Don ‘Donatus Cletus,’ he hates that name too. I am thinking of shortening it to ‘Clecle!’ Cool huh! Ama what do you think? I call Paul, ‘Pablitus’ he doesn’t seem to mind that name, he is a good boy. Don please follow the footsteps of your brother Paul. Wacha kichwa ngumu!
Anyway guys kesho is Valentines day and due to financial…..sorry time constraints I am unable to take you guys out for romantic dinners, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do love each one of you. To show you my love, I will dedicate to you readers a song, and it’s not Ed Sheeran’s Perfect, that track is annoyingly perfect. I will also not dedicate Sam Smith’s ballads even though I have been listening to him a lot lately. I will instead dedicate Sam Smith’s Burning to my sweet old man. I secretly hope he reads this blog from the after life. My siblings and I visited his grave over the weekend. But for you my readers, I dedicate to you a jam that makes me say, “Yelele! Mama!” called Nakupenda by Le Band featuring the OG himself Khaligraph Jones. Have you heard Khaligraph’s new song featuring Petra called Rider? Wueh!
And if you are single this Valentines and you are wondering if you at all you will get a kiss on lovers day, then receive one from me, in advance, Mwaaaaaah! (Remember, my lips are moisturized with my amazing lip balm) hahahaha! Woi am getting sendimendo OK, Nimewacha.
Happy Valentines guys and lovely week ahead.