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Monday, November 29, 2010

ALCOHOL CHRONICLES; THE NAKURU PILGRIMAGE

ALCOHOL CHRONICLES; THE NAKURU PILGRIMAGE
Months before this blog was born, my fraternity went on a pilgrimage to the Rift Valley town of Nakuru. There’s something about this town that makes it an ideal place for the annual, or monthly campus pilgrimage. It has something the city can’t offer, anonymity and cheap raves. The planning was as meticulous as a plan by men can get, beer, money, house, transport and rave points were marked and thoroughly researched (Who needs Google maps or foursquare). Let me save you the work of sorting out the hundreds of inboxes that were exchanged on face book among four guys (and yes, I still think its gay for guys to inbox, unless it’s something top secret and illegal).
So that dark Friday evening we met outside Ukwala, conveniently, because its one of the few supermarkets in town that still stocks alcohol( On your Face New ALCOHOL BILL), once inside we went on a shopping spree in one aisle, moving from brandy to gin to vodka to rum doing the only math that a campus guy can do after the exam, minimizing expenditure and maximizing effect. In this am a proponent of vodka and rum, the former being specifically KIBAO for low income beggars and starters, but I was rolling with people who consider themselves high rollers(sad, because they were getting the money from m-pesa, mum sent?), and we ended up buying alcohol that can not even disinfect a scratch, but when no one else was looking, I sneaked in a bottle of KIBAO vodka and we queued and paid.
A few minutes later and we were seated in a shuttle headed to the Rift Valley, to, as the Swahilis call it ‘kula anasa’. Sad as it was, the mat was a sad affair because it was full of old women coming from I don’t know where on a Friday night, and when John, eldest member of the squad, decided it was as good a time as any to do a few shots of vodka, and the whole mat started smelling like a bar(the smell of tires and burning fuel made it smell more like a strip club, if you catch my drift).You could see the disgusted look on the women’s faces, the frowns, and the thirsty look in the men’s eyes(there were only like two other guys in the mat).One 750ml of HUNTERS CHOICE fulfilled its life’s mission there, even before the matatu reached Soko Mjinga( Someone is feeling genius for having need it that?), which is about 55minutes from the city. Riley wanted us to start on the Napoleon (and am putting it out there that I don’t do brandies any more, it has impotence issues/effects, I hear, and it tastes like coal and rotting watermelons.)but everyone else thought it would be too much, and we still needed to find our way to the house, whose location no one but John knew, and you cant get the guide drunk(you can actually, but this if you don’t mind ending up in someone else’s house and having dogs released on you).By the time we got to Naivasha I had discovered the cure for motion sickness I have been seeking for so long, alcohol! Somewhere between Naivasha and Nakuru, the brandy was downed, and I think everyone in the mat got high by association.

The matatu ‘touched down’ in Nakuru town at around 10:15 p.m, all four of us were slightly tipsy by then, but the night was just beginning, and there was a lot that could still go wrong9 Four men, booze, strange town, do the math). The first thing that hits you when you get to Kenya’s fourth most developed town is the number of tuk tuks, they are so many that the probability of getting hit by one is slightly lower that finding a virgin in a strip club. But you get to appreciate them when you start moving around town and you discover that they offer the most convenient means of transport within town and its outskirts.
After debating on whether to go raving or not,we voted to find the house first and the plan for the night,so we boarded a tuk and by some cruel trick I hadn’t really foreseen, I ended up sitting at the front with the rider, and my three buddies squeezed at the back. The maneuvering within town is just plain madness, especially if you are sitted at the front because things seem a bit different there. We got out of town smoothly though, but we counted our chicks too fast. The house that would host four men for the next to days is an apartment in a small town called Shabbab, around 10mins away on a tuk tuk but the weather is a bit unpredictable and as the gods of the skies would have it, it had rained a few hours earlier and the road was pretty messed up, and if that wasn’t enough, we were stopped by cops, apparently(and life is indeed a learning process)it is against the traffic code for a tuk tuk to carry more than 4 people including the rider and it is even worse if the ‘excess person’( Don’t they teach grammar at Kiganjo?),in this case yours truly, to sit with the rider. If you go to campus in the city or anywhere around it you know cops hate us, and they think anyone who schools in Nairobi or anywhere close to there is as rich as Dangote, and as generous as Mary Magdalene(Go figure!).Suffice to say that we feigned innocence and the rider ended up paying the 150bob he earned from providing his services to us as a bribe to the cop, and he let us go, (cheap bastard!)But then again, this is Kenya.
We got to the house and didn’t even explore it. We stocked the fridge and started planning our weekend, and once we had located the kitchen and the glasses (the fridge is in the living room, small place); we sat and started the ritual. Two 750mls of 40% alcohol later and everyone was now high and happy and the weirdness started when, at around 4:30, Sam (the last of the Fraternity you haven’t met yet) started doing borderline gay things. It is an unspoken rule among men drinking squads that everyone has their day to get silly, I had had mine some weeks prior(ssshhhh, the walls have wiki leaks) and this day was Sam’s by default, and his ‘object of obsession’ was Riley. He started chasing him around, nagging him and like I said some sentences back, borderline gay stuff (gross! gross! gross! give him some Napoleon?).So we dragged him to bed and left him there, and had the gods of throwing up not invaded his alcohol induced stubbornness, he would not have woken up again, I still have photos of him lying on the washroom floor (I would really love to post them, but I have a to-do-list for the future so..) looking like those drunks you see when you go to shagz just high and sleeping so peacefully on the roadside.



(Day2 next blog post)

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Types of Knickers.

this blogpost is not entirely original,it has been edited severally,but its revance is indefensible


What type of underwear is the best? I have compiled the following types. The default type is one we will call Msupa. These are those nice boxers, briefs, thongs or panties which are made of cotton and were NEW when you bought them. Yes; I Insist New! The rest are as follows ...



1) Senior Citizen: This is an underpant with a few years job experience (second hand underpants) and with several high profile 'referees or previous owners' if you may. The owner is most possibly nuts! And a miser.



2) Sambaza: These are hand me downs from older brothers and/or sisters. They have also seen better days. The owner is most possibly young and most probably disgruntled.He/she is most likely to start a fire during a high school strike.



3) Someni Vijana: These come in a box of three for a hundred and fifty. The owner is normally on a tight shoe string budget thus mostly a student.They are obtained only after alot of armtwisting and the process of purchasing them remains a tale to be re-told.



4) Okoa Jahazi: Any underpants bought on credit. Some of which are never paid for. The owner is most possibly still hiding from the underwear dealer. Lend such people your clothes at your own peril.



5) City Hoppa: a.k.a Grandmother panties, Granny P'z a.k.a Mothers Union. These are the old fashioned large ladies panties. They have very thick panty lines too.The owners can be seen with V.P.L.s (Visible panty lines) along the streets.



6) Magana Flowers: Well, this is the self explanatory type. I still don't understand why ladies insist on wearing these flowered underpants. What does it say about the owner? The flowers are a tribute to the men who have perished while working 'down under'.



7) Under 18: This is an under-size one. The owner doesnt believe he/she is growing bigger and insists on defiling younger (read smaller) members of the panty world. The owners can also be seen regulary adjusting their poor under-18s in public.



8) Peeping Tom: These are underpants with a few peep holes especially for men/guys who want the old soldier down under to peep outside, or people with seriously toxic farts that drill holes in the underwear.



9) G4S: This one is Stolen, mostly by persons playing 'Ponyoka na Ngotha' promotion.They realize they canot afford a nice one and decide to steal from friends, family or neighbors. The new 'owners', while daring, are quite stupid and are mostly caught sooner or later.

10)Bob Marley:First they are multi-coloured and have funny looking shape.Because they are 'mtumba' and mostly 'camera',they only exist in 1 per continent and the owner is said to sing "Iron Lion Zion' everynight as he/she irons,lies on and wears the same pair of knickers everyday.

11)Justin Beiber's:Don't mistake this for the 'under 18s',this are extra-white knickers that you store in your closet.

12) My love: Well this is the one and only under pant owned by the Lone-Under-pant-Club members of our community. Its washed at night, dried at night and worn every day. Why is it called 'my love'. Well, it's because every morning they wake up and pick the ngotha while singing Lionel Ritchie's... 'My love, there's only you in my life'...

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Alcohol chronicles;chapter 2

THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO A CAMPUS GUY
THE last chapter ended with a confession that i didn't know exactly ho i ended up in Riley's bed,and you all asked what happened to Ivy,relax,even at my worst am still sane enough to take care of the girl.Before i i tell you how Ivy and i ended up sleeping on the same bed about a km away from my room,maybe i should just tell you who she is to me.

I met Ivy about two years ago,she is my idea of a funky girl,a bit of a flirt but she is a teaser,I hated how she would always manage to make me close my eyes as i moved in for the random kiss and then she would justtouch my lips lightly and vanish,and you know what happens when you tease a lion?Ivy is in her freshman year and so she is still raw in the matters of the world as per the walls of this institution of higher learning,but she is no blonde.and she hates dissapponting people,which expains why she came to the party in the middle of the night.But our relationship is purely platonic(Chris Rock doesnt think they exist but i could prove him wrong-i think),that is,if your view of platonic is distorted.

In the previous chapter i described,albeit too lightly,how we moved the party to the parking lot when the guards refused to let her through.The Somali night housekeeper in my hostel is a stickler for rules,he wouldnt let his mother through if she came past curfew am sure.and so to make tequila from lemons,i grabbed the vodka,Riley grabbed the lime and glasses and we declared the party moved.Its weird how much fun you can have with just three people who understand you,make that for,i hadnt factored in the vodka.

I drank too much,but how much is too much??and now Ivy wont sttop reminding me of the way i was getting all weirdo showing her the stars as we lay on the grass.the noise and commotion the two of us(Riley was on the phone,either with his clande or his insomniac girlfriend)was enough to drive any sober person crazy,The Somali housekeeper came down the stairs twice and both times i lied to him,i think the first time i told him that my name is John and i live on the third floor of the hostel next to mine,but i doubt he believed me,i dont know why,but am pretty sure that i contradicted myself when he came the second time.I wasnt afraid of him,but the bloody beaurecratic system would peel the layers off me if he started a case with the accomodation department,other than that,he can go take a dip in a frying pan for all i care.

At around 4am we were burnt out,all the noise,one and a half 'mzingas' of vodka downed,what was left was to head to bed but the headache was still there,buzzing all around us waiting for us to try and sneak Ivy into my room again.Riley lives in a hostel that is around a km from mine,they are refurbished builidings that seem like a ghost town,the rules there are seemingly no-existent but the price to pay for that is that the room has at least three occupants and the partitions of three are made of cardboard.So it was obvious that Ivy could only sleep there,the matter at hand then became where Ivy would sleep.The problem was easily solved by harnessing jealousy into positive energy and coming up with a king solomon like solution:Riley took my bed,and Ivy and I took the long walk to his.

I doubt his roommates slept though,seeing a drunk srtanger and a girl walk through the door in the wee hours of the morning,high as a concorde,am sure they were just waiting for the creaking bed,well,if they ever do read my blog,sorry guys!

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Alcohol chronicles;chapter 1

Its approximately 4;30a.m and I have a murderous hangover,I think my head is in some remote part of Russia and my body is detached from my body,the last time I felt this beaten up was the second Thursday of my freshman year when my 3 new friends and I decided to try out the campus myth,we ended up high on some cheap brandy that should be included in every campuses curriculum as a common unit because the only people who don’t know its taste and smell are either six-feet under or on a pilgrimage.Ignore the fact that I can not bear to look at that particular brandy because it is rather embarrassingly cheap and I actually stopped taking brandies when I heard from mo than one person that they tend to weaken your carsexual(a word I just made up)battery so that when you want to engage in a particular activity that require that one thing leads to another,it just won’t start,so you run and hide and pop your manhood(pun intended),the battery is dead and however much you fondle the terminals,all you get is a spark,and even when you get your co-driver to try and start the engine,fail!Any normally healthy knows the implications of this,the girl will either hate you or be intrigued by you because she either suspects your are ‘queer’ or that you don’t find find her attractive,either way,trouble!

Sorry I drifted,it’s the hangover,lemme tell you about last night,or,technically,tonight…

My good friend,codename Riley(yes,from Boondocks) and I are potential drunks,I doubt there is any brand we both collectively tried and so we decided on Friday that we were going to have a mini-party,which is pretty easy in a campus,seeing that all you need is to supply people with only enough beer to get slightly high and crave more,at which point you conveniently suggest that someone take a collection and a barman be summoned,or the errand boy be sent for re-supplies,its one of the oldest tricks in the alcohol consumption rule book and I have fallen for it millions of times.So yes,5 texts to my ‘victims’ and we had a mini-party in schedule,and did i mention that my fraternity never sends official invites to males?Being guys we know that while men are more willing to contribute for coffers,they are harder to control when they are high,the worst a girl ever did was throw up all over my duvet and having slight OCD,i washed it in the middle of the night and got the flu,which bugged me for the next three weeks until i treated it with a prescription you only see in the epics,two quick shots of a stiff vodka.

Riley decide it was a vodka weekend,and i'm not even a fan of vodka,i secretly loathe Russians,although that doesn't make a capitalist,vodka gives me this kind of a hangover,the kind even the blonde girls in my class notice and keep looking at me with pitiful eyes,its just a hangover ladies,not a terminal disease.to cut the long story short,flashforward to around 10p.m and am slightly high,Riley is flirting with some random girl and we are the only ones at the party we made in my room.Blaring music tends to increase ontoxication,or am i the only one who feels that??So here we are,seated on my reading table in my room,everyone else has been 'on their way for two hours now and its already past curfew(which would be 10p.m,officially called the 10-10 rule,bloody utopia!).
I'm disappointed but slightly worried,loneliness makes too good a drinking mate,my plan B,which is always present,goes into motion,the plan is to drink myself into a black-out or a semi-coma,whichever comes first and then karma does what she knows best,Ivy calls at 11;30 to say she's seriously on her way,im just three shots away from blacking out and i can't even remember what i told her exactly,Riley is still flirting on the phone,i tried getting him of by snatching the phone and talking to his girl,i think i told her something along the lines of him being blonde and all,i know he will kill me for this later but il just say it was his fault i got so high and did something so silly,and she,the sweet girl on the other end,hopefully,hasn't believed me because logic would follow that being his closest friend........well,figure that out.

Ivy gets to my hostel at midnight and the guards wont let her in,which shouldn't be a shocker, but to yours truly,who is now as high as a kite,it is an encroachment of my rights as a student(which is a load of bull-doody,because i signed the school rule-book but mum didnt say booze dont make me a genius,did she?

Plan B becomes the parking lot,Ivy is telling e there are no stars in the sky but i swear i just saw orion and venus,or maybe its in my head?The guards are pissed,but what can they do?i freaked them out sometime back when i kinda mind read one of them and profiled him and he freaked out,and i speak like am the VC'S son when am high.How i have ended up on Riley's bed i cant quite remember but i only managed an hour of alcohol-induced sleep and now here i am.

its all a blur.

Dear Iceberg,
sorry about global warming,i hear you are melting,karma is such a bitch,is she not?
yours,Titanic!

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Martha;tales of a newbie

A girl, we’ll call her Martha for the sake of conversation, left her village for the city, her tale is the tale of many, she left to attend campus, or, as it is known by the locals at the drinking den where her father is Oprah, ‘kambus’. When she got to school she new no one, being a deliberate introvert, she stayed friendless for the two weeks before the archives hit town. her reasons were selfish, she, like most girls, hated any guy who was at her level and the few newbie guys who as so much as happened to look her way ‘talked to the hand’. She had been given loads of advice before she reported, and she knew that campus guys were (and actually are) all about promulgating newbies. She wasn’t some village ing’oho to be laid by just anyone.
Day one of the archives reporting and she made a new friend while queuing at the campus cafeteria, she was a fourth year who said her name was Judy, hot, fleshy, succulent and pleasant. For the one week they bonded, Judy made our girl Martha eve doubt her sexuality, her helpfulness and kindness were goddess-like, the way she talked and handled her business was so sisterly, she cared for Martha like she was a nipple made of wax. Saturday and our two girls board a matatu to the city to shop, or as Judy calls it, to ;pimp Martha and get rid of all that 'muchatha-ness'. Martha is overjoyed, she dreams like any girl does, get to campus, style up, enjoy the freedom, get a live Prince Charming (dead people are perfect you know?).And just incase horny comes to worst, she has Judy for the threesome(and you thought village girls had no fantasies that went further than getting laid on the river bank).First stop, shoe-shopping, Martha fit to nice pairs of wedges and is even kind enough to get Judy a pair of flat shoes(the plastic 1s-sandak?talk about fashion recycling itself)To pay the 350 shillings, she removes her purse, removes 1000bob from the stack of 16 such notes she has been keeping there because she has no bank account yet.
Our two girls then stroll leisurely to a noisy man selling tops for, as he chants all day TOPS MIA!MBROUSE MIA(his words, not mine).Martha spots a nice baby pink top and she wants it. Judy offers to hold her bag and the shoes as she tries it on, and without second thought, Martha hands her the bag and shoes, takes the top from the noisy-now-quiet guy and tries it on. It gets stuck as she takes it off and she takes a minute sorting her braids to allow the garment to come off, by which time she has made up her mind, to buy it because, I hear later, the top must be small enough to hold everything together(is this true ladies, or should I be stoned?)”What do you think Judy?”Wait, no Judy? Where is she? Martha tries to relax; maybe Judy saw something nice and went to check it out.”Huyo dame tulikuwa nay eye umeona ameendaje?”She asks the now-noisy-again vendor. He poses in the middle of his chant like a scratched record, shrugged, and then finished it off “…….mBROUSE MIA”. No Judy, no bag, and no bag means no 16k in brown notes, no China Mobile our Judy lives so much, no make-up she just bought, no shoes, to sum it all up, Judy pinched in broad daylight and Martha is now standing in the middle of a foreign market with that numb feeling you get when you’ve been robbed, that feeling like you can turn back time. The question remains, who was Judy and why is it that to a newbie, all people look the same even now Martha isn’t even sure if Judy was human or even a student. Experience, they say is that ugly teacher you hated so much, the one who walked in on Day 1 and gave you a CAT without even giving you a lesson.

.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

FRESHER MANUALS; GET A GUY BY THE TEAM HE SUPPORTS!

I think karma didn’t want me to write this blog post, the first one I had was deleted in a  technological mishap and as any budding writer knows, you can never repeat a piece, even  when it was never read. That notwithstanding, the original research I did was for freshers who wanted help on how to choose among all the hungry wolves’ realized that the ‘good guy bad guy’ way doesn’t work past kindergarten this days, so, what’s the nearest replacement? I engaged two friends and a barman, all supporting different football teams and the results, mostly biased, speak for themselves.
So, freshers, dig in! I might be the closest you ever get to a Dr. Phil in these tough lands, Archives, those who’ve already been promulgated) it doesn’t hurt to sharpen your skills, does it. Let’s indulge then…….

ARSENAL (THE GUNNERS)
Do not be cheated by their alias, having the same name as the canon doesn’t necessarily mean they are well endowed, mostly, it actually means the opposite,(remember ‘men with big toys…..’).There are unconfirmed rumors that both napoleon and Hitler, who had a single nut each, were fans of this team, what the relation is I don’t know yet. The gays among the are still deep within the closet, and this fans will more often be like that untidy cousin of yours, and am talking Dan Quayle clumsy, might actually miss ‘the spot’.
They are jealous and are most likely to either start a fight or commit suicide. They no almost nothing about foreplay and postmortem cuddling, but are quite well experienced in the game. They will more oft than not try to use the ‘sweet-wrapper’ argument to not use rubber,.
Arsenal fans are macho men; they are men who are what men are ideally in matters macho. They are violent goons that sleep, eat, drink and crap football. They will most likely sing about how well they hump, or what new style they have. Because they live football, your sexual encounter might actually remain a secret if you do it days before an arsenal game. Abstain on the material day though, its said that they are temporarily impotent before games, worse if they are facing Manchester United. They are most likely to use 10 bob condoms and might actually dress one in the FLY EMIRATES jersey. Worst case scenario, they yell ARSENE WENGER during intercourse, don’t be alarmed, role play!
 
MANCHESTER UNITED(THE RED DEVILS)
I know what you are expecting but no, the devils are not so different from the canons, sorry, gunners. But unlike the rough Gunners, the devils tend to be timid and bully-able, this makes them lethal, because they will sleep with all your girlfriends and you will never know. Most are thought to be gay, but many are just too concerned about their looks. They pretend to not notice how much you mean to them. they might get carried away during foreplay, and forget to move to the next stage…
They will do anything for the shag and are the most easy to manipulate, they know how to play safe and always, even in dry seasons, carry at least three different brands of rubber in their wallets.And they still have swag that should have ended in the 80s.
CHELSEA (THE BLUES)
THE BLUES are just like your Monday blues, annoying and persistent. They will most likely chase you and all your girlfriends before finally settling on you, if you are the easiest that is. Quiet as a church mouse during coitus, everything changes when they spill, then the whole town knows and ‘Formica inafunikwa’ to celebrate your surrender. Actually, they will sing about it and remind you of how well they satisfied you(which might most likely not be true)until they get horny and need you again. If you want to get laid by the Town Crier and the GUNNERS are not your thing, then you need a Chelsea fan. And forget that they always brag about their rich uncle.
MANCHESTER CITY
You are wondering whether they do exist and the answer is yes, although an endangered species, this are the guys you should keep away from if you believe in the fact that BIG men are not entirely blessed then avoid this pack! They are most likely to splash cash in the hope that you’ll fall for them, but be warned, they ‘OVERPROMISE and under deliver’,Think STUDDED.
REAL MADRID
Exotic gentlemen, most of the are gay and/or bisexual and don’t give a **** about who knows. They are most likely very rich or spendthrift and will try to ‘buy off’ your current boyfriend by buying him booze and sleeping with you when your beau switches off. If you are into weird fantasies, anything with ropes and whips, they are said to be the kings at it, legend has been whispered that they can put this all in 1 quickie, but am yet to meet a girl who praises this lot.
They are most likely to use DUREX in the hope that you’ll notice the effort and reward accordingly(lavishly) but be honest girls, do you really know the difference??
BARCELONA
They are the GUNNERS of Spain, they are the conservative anti-gay type, or  superficially so. If a guy friend of yours has an ugly friend he’s been trying to hook you up with, then you know the Barcelona Modus Operandi. They always roll with the hot guys, you will never fail to notice them, they are those guys who will try to sleep with you when their friend, who happens to be your current, is away in the loo taking a leak.
SPAIN
Keep away from this breed, any man who still supports Spain 3 months after the World Cup is dangerous because they under promise and under deliver, and are most likely to get you pregnant with just that 1 spill. They don’t believe in Paul the Octopus so to them karma isn’t a bitch, she just bloody doesn’t exist!
BRAZIL
Old school and potent, they still have the swag of yester years and will lay you in the missionary position because it’s the only they know.
FRANCE
If you ever teased a guy and he got MAD, then you know how Sarkozy’s troop is. They used to be good, and will remind you of what your sister said when they laid her eons ago in primary school.
LOCAL LEAGUE
Wild noisy packs, they will try to lay you like a game of pool,1 ball at a time. They play the local leagues, and the closest they might come to a kinky fantasy is the headman’s obese wife. they are wild and annoying and know COMPLETELY nothing about foreplay. Virgins, take heed, if he is anything AFC,GOR or SOFAPAKA, sleep with him only if you have a death wish and a willing compatible blood donor, The guy will most likely have very low specifications of what they want in a girl, they will sleep with any girl who can (feign)an orgasm in his(not necessarily your)mother tongue. They are most likely to use government-issue condoms.
Although an exotic breed is emerging, most still owe allegiance to the EPL and their section in this manual is the paragraphs above.
INDEPENDENTS
Men who have no particular team, this is a breed that has mostly been misinterpreted as gay, but don’t be fooled they will sleep with you and all your roomies and none of you will ever know, different names, different MO. They are manipulative because they are different and know it, they are most likely to ‘hit and walk’ to that friend you made during registration, even archives are afraid of them because they don’t live for any team, they are wild, untamed and yet still clean-cut and gentlemen. they are loyal but if you are a fan of a team listed above yourself, they will treat you as per how your team behaves. they are independents, anything is, even orgies, Including certain species of fish are not too far off for them.
 
So, yes, now you have the gospel as per my letters to the Fresherians, as I apply for witness protection, get yourself a man!

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

THE BLOG IS BORN!

I know whats going on through your mind,a guy keeping a diary?there's something gay about that,well,at least thats what an 'honest' friend told me.And to add Iraq to Islamophobia,a campus guy?
Its not really a diary,its a journal of sorts,a place where I come to try scrap the rust from the steel trap that is is my mind,which is a futile Venture but ild rather die trying.
And i know the idea is n0t really original,i kinda 'stole',wait,absorbed,or maybe got inspired by Savvy Kenya (OBVIOUSLY not her real name but thats the beauty of it)So the question on your mind is,what don't I(you in this case)know about the life of a campus guy in Kenya and everywhere else?The retort?ALOT!
I have a weird feeling,call it intuition,the ticklish nipple or the vibrating tail,that ladies will enjoy this blog more than guys,which is a good thing,OF COS!So,will he start talking about fresher hunts,the condom tales,exploits,the ever-exiled roommate,the hornytoad friends,food(already started)?Will he tell us what guys look for in a campus girl(which I would right now if it wasn't as simple as AS LONG AS ITS A GURL!!0h no,did I just?)?Will he tell as about the gay community in campus,or the lesbian congregation?About the orgy organisations and the freemasons-like secret organisations where the sacrifice is chastity?
Well,in due time,all in due time.

Campus:Food is NOT only for the stomach

 (THIS BLOGPOST IS NOT A 100% ORIGINAL,language is owned by the people who make it,so,to the creative minds of all those who frequent vibandaz and to a good friend of mine who compiled the first list)

Anyone who is in campus definitely knows a thing or two about kibanda language,we all use it,sometimes it is so embedded in conversation we actually forget the original name of the food,you can blame it on the 'hoteliers' who keep chalkboards for menus)
While there is no 'start from the outside' kind of etiquette,the unspoken rule is that no item on the menu retains its 'legal' name,and,the crazier,the better.


1. Chapati dunga - chapati is rolled and pierced with a fork,the number of forks equal the number of chapatis ordered.

2. Chapati dondosa - this is where a chapati is served whole and served while floating on thick soup.

3. Chapati msalaba - sliced into four equal quarters. The cuttings resemble a cross and hence the tag 'msalaba',but don't be cheatd,the surface area changes,NOT!

4. Chapati kifagio- sliced into many thin vertical strips to resemble something tht woud fit better in a round of Quid-ditch,without Harry Potter

5. Chapati chafua- chapati is sliced into many pieces as possible, approximately 3.5 centimeteres squared (do the math)

6. Chapati mbao/ chapati mawe - this is a dry chapati, for the day when there is a hole in your pocket,it is suicidal.

7. Ugali saucer/ wembe/discount/kajamo-This 1 am sure you have heard of,it is for those days when 1 serving is just not enough or you have an xtra 20bob you found on your way to the kibanda.

8. Ugali mlima- this is a chunk of ugali served only to professionals and is usually served with a warning. 'ukikosa kuimaliza, utaongeza kumi',whether its a threat or a promise,i have never risked finding out.

9. Tumbukiza - this is where meat is overboiled until the meat is very soft. Usually served without salt. Tumbukiza SPECIAL has no bones which sometimes leads me think its more of aslum 'special'.

10. Kahawa kifo- so you have done kahawa chungu! This is worse. It usually contains lots of 'kahawa no 1' and is overboiled till its black. its then served without sugar. Its literally burnt coffee and i suspect its used for lethal injections.

11. Kaa ndani- this is where a mandazi is made an incision at the side and a delicacy inserted inside of it. So kaa ndani ya sausage is a mandazi with a sausage in it.

12. Jembe ya meno- toothpick

13. Samaki cassette- this is fish which has bones in it. Its served whole whereby a person starts eating it on one side( side A ). Once done, its then turned to the other side (side B). A successful completed eating mission is certified once the only thing left on the plate are intact bones of the fish and the head.

14. Karara- chapati nusu

15. Combat- Githeri

16. Mix/ missile / kadhalika- this is a plate of everything on the soup/stew menu. mostly madondo, sukuma, nyama, ndengu etc. and its ordered with swag(helps if you are from the lakeside), so dont go ati 'nipatie missile 20'! try'haya, hebu nibonde na chapo mix ya kaufourty, na ikuje chapchap kabla niachwe na ndege.

17. Teargas- pilipili,correctly named so because it has madde many a great man weep in front of a girl and not feel embarrassed.

18. C.N.N...Chapati Nne Ndengu

19. R n B -Rice n Beans

20. M.0.U -MBoga 0mellete Ugali

21.D.N.A -Dunga Ndengu Avocado

22.Rice Mchele -this was recently 'invented' in a kiosk,it includes getting two plates of rice,1 has some soup on it and acts as the stew.


am sure at let once in your life,either from neccessity,adventure,coercion,persuasion or just plain naivety,you have ventured ino a kibanda,1 whose centre of gravity is non-existent,what catchy names did you spot on the menu?