ISINYA

Evening. It’s a little windy. A few cows are wandering around perhaps trying to find their way home or catching up with their cow-cliques. Its cattle country here. They are either loitering the streets or hanging in butcheries. Folks here are cool and relaxed. Herding is a common occupation here and herdsmen gather in the evening to tell stories of their herding odysseys at mutura stands. The ‘mutura’ is awesome though. The Maasai are the most authentic tribe in Kenya so they require their mutura as real as it gets. If you understand your mutura well, (like I do) you will appreciate the sheer expertise of these skilled men and women who are not masaai but entrepreneurial kikuyus who are just that good.

This was the place that was my home for a couple of months. Hardship area they called it but to me it was a breath of fresh air. There are more cows than people which is actually great because cows are great at minding their own business.

It so happens that I’m an alcoholic who loves his meat so this place is like heaven to me. Apparently my workmates don’t drink (alcohol) so I’m the black sheep of the group but that doesn’t stop me from ordering a few tuskers as we wait for the nyama choma. Nevertheless, by the time the meat is ready, I’m babbling away at anybody who cares to listen. I’m not that conversant in current politics and most of my stories revolve around incidences where I got shit faced and did a bunch of stuff which I’m supposed to be embarrassed about but apparently I’m not. Bummer.

Eventually after the meat is done and everyone has toothpicks on their mouth and shit. I, however have zero tolerance against sharp objects so I’m sucking on a tusker instead. Sooner than later, I got too drunk for comfort and everyone left but I didn’t because which idiot leaves the club at 11 and calls that late?

Soo.. most people are idiots because I found myself hitting on waiters because by 12 it was only me and several hot (I presume) waitresses who were wondering why I wasn’t married yet I had a stable career(her words not mine). I pondered on that for a while and thought she had a point. The epitome of life as perceived by many is finding a perfect mate and producing offspring. But I, being smart as hell decided that I was too intoxicated to distinguish between perfect and imperfect mates…

Next post people!