Monday, 31 December 2018


Hoo........ Hoo.  . . . .Hooo Hoooo

Ahoo Ahoo Ahoooo

Omusinde wee!

Aaah nothing beats the early morning chants of traditional circumcision. Well at least if you come from Western Kenya. A good percentage of you guys (ladies / gents) won't even sing the chant right, but it's okay, it doesn't really matter simply because the tradition is slowly dying with the advent of modernization. I for one did not go through traditional circumcision. I got cut in a hospital at a tender age of nine. A painful recollection. But a brave one indeed. Maybe I could swank about how nice I was fed. Like a king. With maids by my side gently fanning my well rested body. Feeding me berries like rich arm-less guy. Am obviously kidding. The only change in diet I got was a dose of fries every once in a while. As an African child, fries were like pizza or a burger or whatever white kids fancy.

Burgers are amazing. Deliciously layered from bottom to top. It's not a snack but an experience. The base is firm with a wheat foundation, followed by thick round roasted beaf,  cheese, some veggies and finally the burger is complete with a wheat-crown. A crown kinda like the one that comes with a gown. Dark but victorious. Biggish but intimate. If you still haven't figured it out yet,  I graduated. Finally, it was a long a waited affair. Like the burger it took four layers of assorted experiences to make sweet sweet end. Now I take a bite of the unforgiving world. Where hard work and patience are the drivers of success. I feel vulnerable. Like a fisherman exploring uncharted waters. Unsure of a catch and terrified of killer waves. 

We were granted the power to read and write. I should shouted "way ahead of you, I have a blog." Power makes some people arogant, especially when it is very little. Ever been stopped at the gateor even sent away by a stubborn watchman? Infuriating right?  You walk away cursing like;

Sasa ona huyu mshenzi, anajua mimi ni nani? 

Mtu hata hajui kusoma unaezadhani kampuni ni yake

Putting on that gown isn't overrated as I had presumed. Triumph oozes within its fabrics,  no matter how old it may be, the feeling is the same. You are compelled to take selfies. Hundreds of them. Then get one portrait photo to grace your living room in a frame. A quick conversation starter for mum upon a friendly visit. 

Ooh woow,  so your son graduated! 

And she would go on and on and bore the visitors with unnecessary info. 

Yeah from Maseno University. Did you know it's the only University on the Equator?  

The first two steps in the Kenyan curriculum Eight and four had already taught us how to read and write. So what does it really mean to be granted the power? Well it's simple. We previously read to pass exams but now you are supposed to read to gain knowledge which would help brew content you could write about say books or novels.

As I stood amid the graduation square I panned, bemused. I took a look at my classmates, what a bummer, this was likely the last time we would be gathered. What a journey we have had. The laughs, the tears and I can't forget the hugs. Where now will I get free hugs, bigger bummer. All I pray for is, we meet again in a few years all affluent. Weekends should be like;

Oya Marvo! me and the guys are flying over to Diani wanna come?

Then I would be like

Uuuuhm . . . . I will check my schedule and hit you up before the end of the day.

I find it pleasing to meet my goals. It gives me some sense of satisfaction I cannot explain. That's what has kept me busy these past few days. I was glued to Instagram trying to make 10k followers before the end of the year.  And yes I did. 

This being the last day of 2018 I won't be lengthy. I'll keep it short and sweet like the best love song this year. To my fellow graduates it we gat this.

To all my fans bonne annĂ©e (that is happy new year in French, it sounds cooler)