Keep your hands to yourself

Travelling can be fun, especially when you cannot get enough of the beautiful sceneries outside your window. It can also be a nightmare, as my friend Nancy found out last week. Most of us never have the pleasure to choose who to sit next to. And aren’t we are all different in our own special ways? You can sit next to a woman nursing a wailing baby while balancing a bowl of pounded avocado. Or a Rihanna obsessed fan whose music is so loud, it won’t let you sleep. What about the old man who uses your shoulders as his pillow, and snores while at it? Even worse is the loud mouth who keeps spitting saliva and does not understand contortion on your face. Feels like hell, I know. Wait until you meet the one with the ‘touchy man hands.’   My friend met an all rounded one – Mr. Know it All with touchy man hands, and she had the worst day of her life.

She was travelling from Nairobi to Eldoret (going back to Moi University) and she wanted to get as comfortable as possible. So she sat at the back, sandwiched between two well fed African men. Her first ordeal, air circulation inside the packed matatu was terrible. Her only consolation was the fresh rush of air into the matatu, albeit periodically.

Still, she could take that. But somewhere near Westlands, her seat mate decided that he had to know more about her. He ranted about this, and about that, pointing at those buildings mushrooming in Westie, indulges in a little background history about them and not once did he slow down. He talked a little about himself, his work and HIS AGE! Yes he did…I am a 30 year old bachelor blah blah blah. I say it like she described it; a scene out of KTN’s Tujuane Show.  

Don’t get me wrong, striking a conversation on a bus or matatu is not a bad thing. In fact it can be the inception of a long lasting friendship or relationship. And travelling can get lonely, I know. But sometimes people just want to be left alone with their thoughts to torture them in peace. You are on your way back to school – assignments pending, a CAT coming up, a research project that you cannot seem to get past the topic and the biting cold of Moi University awaits you.

Trust this man to never leave you alone. Come on, you are only past Limuru. He then asked for her phone to make a call because his was off. He made a phone call alright, but to his phone which blared with Busy Signal’s Missing You. He now had her number. Smooth maybe, but treacherous nonetheless.

When they made a stop in Nakuru, he pulled the gentleman trick and offered to buy her lunch by pushing a 500 shilling note her way. Declining such offers is not just an African thing. Besides, he had put her through so much, it was the least he could do. She pocketed the money and headed out to get her lunch. My friend came back 10 minutes later to find him waiting patiently and smiling between his teeth.

Now he was smiling, woe unto her for accepting that money! The nightmare continued until they reached Eldoret.  Then he pulled a new move, this time reloaded. She felt his hands sneaking up on her thighs. Yes, his touchy man hands were slowly climbing up to the no go zones.  This is the point where she contemplated giving back the money. Then like a miracle, she spotted the conspicuous Moi University sign board at Cheptiret. Free at last, free at last, thank God, she was free at last. Martin Luther King would be proud.

                                     

Let’s get physical

Andrew Solomon, an American author wrote, “Exercise because it is good for you even if every step weighs a thousand pounds.” Good exercise does to the body what a good engine does to a car. It powers it and gives it health to cover miles and miles without breaking down. People exercise for a lot of reasons; to lose weight, to build muscles and to improve body health. Whatever your motivation, physical fitness is undoubtedly a master of body rejuvenation and conditioning. Three rules of physical fitness: eat healthy, do enough of body exercises and have plenty of rest.

The typical Moi University student consumes fries from Monday to Monday, guzzles down alcohol, sleeps at 4.00 am and watches a movie in bed after waking up at 10.00 am. It is a pathetic story but Moi University is not just a physical community, except for a few sporting activities and a handful of self-driven joggers and twilight dance classes. A friend of mine often says that she’d have to be insane to leave the comfort of her sizable warm bed in the name of jogging. There is the biting cold and it is the wee hours of the morning!

My friend (who I would like to keep anonymous) and a larger Moi University fraternity take physical fitness very lightly. Such ignorance could cost us; future generations would condemn us for creating such a sluggish culture and passing on the disease to them.

The university is partly to blame for cultivating this lazy culture among its students. To begin with, Moi University Main Campus does not have a standard gym to cater for the needs of all students. There is only a building masquerading as a gym with an ambiguous inscription ‘FITNESS CENTRE’. But it is never what you expect. It is just a dirty little room where boys (or should I say men) go to sweat and pant as they lift weights.  It would be nice if a female student could walk into the gym and exercise with the right equipment. Or are we all just supposed to lift weights?

According to an expert blog, swimming is rated as one of the best cardio exercises because every muscle of the body is involved in the activity. It thus enables the body to burn calories faster and tone the body muscles. The university does not have a swimming pool on campus that would motivate students to take up swimming as part of their daily exercise. If you are a swimming enthusiast, you have to go to Sirikwa (which is in town) and pay a fee before you are allowed into the pool. Maybe it is time Moi University left Sirikwa alone and constructed a swimming pool for its students.

Despite the large tracts of land that Moi University sits on and a terrain that is conducive for running, the university has never thought of harvesting the students’ athletics skills. What is the name of that Sports Director again? And why did we elect him if he cannot pitch such ideas to university’s administration?

If only the university would be as enthusiastic to set up such fitness facilities as it is with setting up a chips café on every campus corner, we would be the healthiest and the fittest university in Kenya.

“I wish I could lose this extra fat.” Bodily fitness is not built on wishful thinking. It starts with eating healthy and incorporating exercise in your daily activities. You can jog in the morning, dance (you could enroll for a salsa class and burn calories every week) or take up rope jumping among other activities. Get up lazy people and let’s all get physical.

MOTHERS-IN-LAW AND TAXES

A story is told of a mother who upon seeing a childless union between her son and his wife, made a pilgrimage to the village to seek the advice of the elders, and most importantly, the gods. When she came back to the city, she chaperoned a naïve village virgin- a gift for her son because the gods had spoken. Her madness was just starting; she locked the two in her son’s bedroom and demanded that they sire forth a child immediately. That is if they wanted her to unlock the door. She went ahead to broadcast her ‘thoughtfulness and wittiness’ to the unsuspecting poor wife who did not thank her like she anticipated because she was just trying to help.

Mothers –in – law are ‘special’ beings. They always think the worst of their children’s spouses. They love to meddle with the intention of fixing things in a marriage that is not even theirs because they believe they are wise beyond their years. When she makes that infamous journey to your matrimonial home, balancing a bag of potatoes and yams on her head she will promise to stay only for a few days. Unless she receives an urgent call that the neighbour’s goats have invaded her shamba, consider yourself DOOMED. She will make your life impossible the best way she can, unapologetically of course.

She will take over your roles in a heartbeat, arguing that she can take care of her son better than you ever will because mothers know best. God forbid if you were to complain, she will rant on and on about how disrespectful you are to the woman who carried your husband in her womb for 9 months. This is an old trick that mothers use to transfer guilt. She will even complain that Angela (the woman she wishes her son had married) treats her better than you do and rub it on your face that Angela would have made a better wife.

Married men have equally bad experiences with their mothers-in-law. Aren’t you the same man who ‘deflowered’ her little gal? She will phone you when you are in an important meeting demanding a detailed explanation why you argued with her daughter, why you hired a younger house help, why you came home late and all that crazy stuff you do to make her daughter’s life a living hell. She will threaten to take back her daughter if you do not change your wayward ways.

Over meddling mothers-in-law are like taxes, they breathe down your neck and trying to evade them will get you into serious trouble so you just have to live with them.

The allure of the bad boy

Bad boys are the kind of men that mothers love to hate and fathers swear to kill. They are the kind of men that well-mannered girls desperately fall in love with.

Call it insanity or fatal attraction, the bad boy has a touch of rebelliousness blended with finesse that often drives women weak to their knees. His dangerous appeal and wild attitude singles him out from the other men and makes him even more attractive to a woman.

 He is arrogant, self-centered and egotistic but makes no apologies about it. As far as he is concerned, he is the only sane person in the planet because the rest of the world is twisted.

The bad boy exudes a certain level of confidence akin to James Bond 007 because he always presumes to have the upper hand in everything. He is the only king in his kingdom.

He doesn’t hide the fact that he is good looking or that he has a perfect body that would drive a lot of women crazy. He attracts attention without even trying. Maybe it is his leather jacket, or metal boots that produce a clicking sound as he walks, or his conspicuous tattoo. Or it is his really strange haircut. Maybe it is the mafia attitude.

He is an expert at attracting trouble and causing fracas. From bar brawls to fights in the street, the bad boy is a master at being bad.

He is a contrarian; he does not need to conform to the common ways of fellow men. That would be too easy a life and lame too. He makes his own rules that he chooses to live by. So what if your mother wants you home by 10.00 pm? The bad by doesn’t care because midnight is as good as 10.

He doesn’t care about sentimental gestures like buying flowers for the woman he is dating because that is just too corny and so not his style. Besides, roses chock the fresh air out of the room.

Unlike the ones who fall in love, some women date the bad boy for the fun of it. Bad boys are never boring because they always have a trick up their sleeve. They have the let’s -set -the -world-on - fire attitude that keeps a woman intrigued and interested even when her father threatens to disown her.

Bad boys are like shoes; shoes strain your feet but you still keep them in your closet because they are too good to be discarded. Bad boys strain your life but you just can’t keep them to the curb.

ALCOHOL FROM HELL: A TALE OF KOROGOCHO BREWERIES

A few weeks ago, NTV courtesy of one John Allan Namu exposed us to a shocking reality about a tiny alcohol brewery inside the dingy filthy slums of Korogocho where alcohol is ‘sweetened’ with ARVs and formalin.

In a gripping documentary titled Sisters of Death, NTV peeled back the mask on a booming alcohol business by HIV positive women in Korogocho slums who use their ARVs to make alcohol for sale.

If it were not for the always inquisitive Allan Namu, maybe we would never have known that ARVs can act as an ingredient for alcohol. With their super Einstein brains, no scientist in the world had figured this out except for a few ‘geniuses’ in the poverty-stricken Korogocho slums.

It is said that these industrious women bumped on this knwoledge after some of them complained of feeling drowsy and a little tipsy after taking the ARV tablets (the same effect alcohol has on its faithfuls). They decided to experiment with the drugs and voila! The alcohol was sweeter and addictive too!

This they say has attracted more customers who claim that the quality of their alcohol has improved, and they can now go home drunk and staggering than ever. And the profit is awesome!

Even at a time that donors have threatened to withdraw funding on HIV/AIDS in Kenya, the women from Korogocho apparently do not think that ARVs are such a big deal to HIV+ victims. Instead of using the tablets to prolong their lives, they would rather crush them to powder and mix in alcohol.

Most HIV + victims can attest that it is always hard if not impossible to obtain ARVs, because they have to hop from one clinic to the next in search of the wonder drug that is their only hope of a longer life.

And so it is an absolute criminality that somewhere in Korogocho, is a secret business of ARV misuse where women are intentionally endangering the lives of their unsuspecting customers by lacing alcohol with ARVs and formalin.

Formalin was intended for only one purpose, to preserve dead bodies in morgues and not to preserve the drunken living.

This special brew is then packaged into clean bottles where each bottle is branded in popular brand names together with real stickers and seals which the women obtain by stealing, after which they hit the market fast to rival other major legitimate breweries.

This is proof that the next time you are out shopping for a bottle of liquor, you can never be too sure if it the true brand or it is made in Korogocho.

It is high time the drinking population became vigilant because our Chinese brothers have taught us that looks can be deceptive; just because it is written on the sticker doesn’t make it original.

This chilling revelation has left many perturbed with a few of my friends swearing to stop taking alcohol, which I know can never work because they have “been there, done that” several times but I still find them sitting at a bar table licking the alcohol from their fingers.

The effects this alcohol has on its consumers is yet to be known as  NACADA has ordered tests to ascertain its possible effects on human life, and we sure hope it is not tragic because Kenya has already lost so many due to illicit brew.

The Typical Campus Drinker

Surviving on campus always comes with its ups and downs; from exams, relationships, money and to the most notorious of them all: sweet ALCOHOL. Students love alcohol and alcohol loves students, it’s almost like a perfect give and take relationship with high dependence on each other.

Alcohol is regarded highly among its faithful followers as the only way to unwind and have ultimate fun. It is a culture that is soon embraced by the naïve and green freshmen that are always ready to experience life on the Upper East Side (campus). Every drinker has their unique habits and the typical campus drinker has his too.

1.       Drinks cheap liquor

Not every student who desires alcohol can afford expensive drinks like Johnny Walker or Amarulla but HURRAY! to the alcohol industry for providing us with many choices that are friendly to the pocket.

Due to the status quo, some high and mighty students who find themselves so broke that they have to resort to cheap drinks like Kibao keep their ‘precious’ bottle under the table or somewhere in a dark corner to avoid public embarrassment and humiliation.

2.       Drinks and dashes

This is an art that has been perfected by the female campus drinker. They know just who to corner and when to take off.

She finds herself a ‘rich’ student admirer and squeezes a few bottles of Smirnoff vodka out of him.  As it is the way of the world the buyer assumes that there is nothing like free booze unless she has something to offer him. He excitedly calls his roommate and demands that he vacates the room because he is bringing home some chips funga.

But the female drinker being as educated and tactful as she is, soon disappears among the drunken crowds to hunt for another fat pocket because she is still not high.

“You cannot afford to be choosy, sometimes looks are thrown out through the window when you see the size of his pocket,” a friend once confessed.

3.         Can still get drunk even when penniless

A pauper may sleep hungry a few nights but lack of money has never stopped a typical campus drinker from becoming insanely drunk.

He goes to the club with one sole purpose: to prey on the unattended liquor.  All he needs is a plastic tumbler and quick long hands, and sometimes a sweet tongue in case he is caught in the act.

He moves from one table to the next, desperately searching for an ‘abandoned’ drink or a ‘giving drinker’ who understands the phrase ‘give and it shall be given unto you.’ The cocktail that results from this artful begging and stealing can do wonders to the human body.

By the end of the night, such bona fide predators are the most drunk in the club, they even start hurling abuses at the source of their drink. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you!

4.       Can stumble and fall, but still save the drink

…what’s in my cup stays in my cup, in my cup stays in my cup, my drink is in my cup. Richie Loops might as well be made a hero for singing such thoughtful lines. Protecting what you hold most dear may mean something different to a campus drinker.

The bottle is precious to him and protecting it from crashing into pieces and spilling its valuable contents he must. God forbid if it were to slip from his tenacious grip…the whole bar would be plunged into total chaos!

5.       Fights with unmatched madness regardless of gender

It has been said that the ugliest brawls are between people of the opposite gender. The campus drinker has no self-restraint, be it a male student fighting a female student or vice versa. All sense and decency is lost as they pummel each other and even seek supporting materials like bottles.

The cause of such fights can be as petty as a body touch or just a stare. Once while on a drinking spree with my girlfriends I accidentally pushed a drunken comrade. Little did I know that I had opened the Pandora’s Box of rage. Had it not been for the police who arrived courtesy of Mututho Laws, I would have earned a black eye, a broken lip and even a couple of scratches on the face.

Any gentleman or ladylike qualities are abandoned the moment the alcohol hits the brain and the campus drinker transforms into a complete savage.

6.       Dances to gospel music in the club

Jimmy Gait and MOG are celebrities in churches and clubs alike. When it comes to the new generation of gospel music, there are no boundaries as to where they should be played. When a campus drinker is high on his fix, unusual things tend to happen. This is the time she or he pulls the explicit bend-over style while drunkenly singing along to Jimmy Gait’s furi furi blasting from the club stereo. “You do much for me…that nobody can…that’s why I furi furi dance…” Sure God is omnipresent!