My French teacher had a very strong personality. Moto bin pasi! One time she wore a miniskirt to school which was out of the ordinary for a lady in her fifties. When her female colleagues called her aside to express their concern she asked them if they were lesbians. That would be the only explanation for their interest in her outfit. When news about her skirt spread among the students and some of them peeped at the classroom door to see how she was dressed, she made them stand outside and stare at her until the lesson was over.

She advised us to write our journals in French for practice and once I started I could not stop because I enjoyed it a lot. Until one day she asked us to hand in the diaries as part of an assignment. Wueh! Double wahala part two! I had filled my diary with complaints about her methods of teaching and some crazy teenage stuff so I was really scared. I even started reading Business Studies from scratch because if I'd still be alive after facing her wrath, I'd most definitely not sit for a French K.C.S.E exam.

After that I started writing in a way that would edify everyone who read my work. I looked for a notebook and wrote stories about anything I could think of and gave it to my deskies to read (front deskie, side deskie, back deskie. Funny how we had side deskies. Si the person seated on either side is your deskie so what exactly was a side deskie. Smh) I enjoyed writing stuff and giving it to someone who also enjoyed reading.

I finished high school and spent most of the time with my dad who was sick at the time. He was asleep a lot and I easily got bored during the afternoons. I started thinking about a blog I had registered back in Form Two and worked on it a bit.

That's how I started. Why I continue? Because I need a place to ask questions like; Did I remember to feel like Doc Shebeleza when I woke up this morning? Will Pierre Makena ever cough ama she likes her voice that way? Does your anaconda still want some if she's a nun hun? I write because I can't think about Ellie Goulding all the time or play games such as hop-skip-and-EllieGoulding, rock-paper-EllieGoulding and tic-tac-EllieGoulding.

I write because it's one of those things I do well. Considering no one will ever pay me to find coins dropped in sofas or on the road, I might as well do something valuable.

Writing is what I find myself doing and the Bible says whatever your hand findeth to do, do it as though you are serving God and not man. It makes me happy to contribute to a world of art which inspires me a lot.

I'm working on a dance routine for Beyoncé's song, Upgrade You. It's actually a new year's resolution since I didn't get time to finish it last year. After that I'll do a routine for "Partition" but that will be very hard because the tutorial video is done by some dudes with huge butts and they're doing all these moves on the floor so I feel quite intimidated. In asmuch as I love dancing, my passion is writing.


"No such thing as a life that's better than yours" -Jermaine Cole

There was no place he would rather be. Showing up at her house gave him so much joy even though she never invited him in. Tall dark and slim like those straws they give you at Java, he would be there every morning with a bouquet of flowers hopeful that she would accept his offer. He had fallen in love with this girl and would do anything to get her. It was her he wanted rolling up his chest hair into ndengus during pillow talk.

One day she showed up in his living room claiming to have had enough of his gesture but the son of Mosongi smiled because he knew the love of his life had just walked in and was in no hurry to leave. Thus began their relationship. She complained about everything but he was too stoked to let her noise bother him.

He was never enough for her. A girl like her deserved someone like the president, a man whose dad was C-in-C and he followed suit. A man who found time in his busy schedule to be a South African kwaito musician. No kids were born yet just incase a better offer came her way. Why didn't Mosongi pay someone and get these contracts and tenders everyone is getting? Does it make him less of a man to steal for the sake of his family?

There was a semblance of peace in the evenings when the crazies of parliament overpowered theirs. Laughter made them forget their troubles making them friends, lovers even. He wondered why it wasn't always like this. As if reading his thoughts she would mock a local MP and say, "The passion of a woman, Mr. Speaker, can only be seen at night." Boy did he take advantage of this mood. However, when morning came the situation changed.

She said one day she would get tired of this love and walk away. He got tired first and walked away into the sunset with a damsel who spoke less, smiled more and made him feel like the only man in the world. He soon realised that the walk was too silent and only one smile made him weak.

He ran home to his wife who had run out of things to complain about and they lived happily ever after (LOL).


Uptown funk you up. Uptown funk you up! The white hat is MIA so my Bruno Mars outfit is a bit flawed.I wrote this one for all my overthinking fellows. It's not our fault we have a wild imagination.

"Maureen, the coach wants to see you in his office."

See me? Mo the mocha-skin beauty? Why? Does he have a thing for me? I've seen the way he looks at my particulars when I'm running towards the goalpost. I don't mind him though. He's grown so I bet he doesn't use the word 'though' all the time. This chicken though. I'm awake though. I love you though. I want to stop using this word but I can't though.

I can see myself in his pretty car cruising with him eating all the pizza in the world. Who doesn't love blue subarus? Unless you are the girl who shall not be mentioned and you think they cost 600,000 and getting rid of them will cure AIDS, cancer and ebola. Moha Jicho Pevu needs to do a "Paruwanja la Subaru ya Buluu" and find out what those cars did to the poor girl. Dating the coach means I'll finally dump Mutua. I could have done it earlier but I can't afford to be alone.

Maybe my Sports scholarship has come through. I can't wait to go to Spain and see Hose Louis. Who said we were not meant to be together. I had better okoa bundles and google how Spanish hair looks so I know which weave to buy. I think it's Daniella. Ama I go with this Brazilian weave and say I'm from Sao Paulo. I'll still have to dump Mutua. No way I'm spending my last days in this country sharing a man with Joyce wa Wines and Spirits.

I bet he wants to kick me out of the team. It's because I'm fat right? My ex told me I'm so fat if I were involved in an accident, villagers would rush to siphon oil from my body. It's a full figure you dumbass and you'd be surprised how many men and women this bod attracts! I'll make sure I take action on him and this school. You can't do away with me simply because I love fries more than anything in this world. I know my rights! These days you can't go around discriminating on minorities. Does he know the power of a hashtag? I can even say he tried to sleep with me. It's my word against his.

He had better be calling to say I'm the new captain. After all I've done for this team that's the best he could do. Boys fill this field cheering for us because they can't get enough of my flawless legs highlighted with stretchmarks. My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard plus there's soda and iced tea for those who are allergic.

Everyone knows I am the biggest motivation for this team. Remember that time I brought cakes for everyone. You think anyone will love this team that much. Yes, they were a bit stale and our strikers spent the whole afternoon in the washrooms but still, it's the thought that counts.

"Yes coach?"
"I'll see you tomorrow."