Prime Minister's Sexy Office

Check out the PM's new office block. I took the pic this afternoon but was afraid some overzealous security people might grab my phone for photographing a 'state installation' or something ridiculous along those lines.
Lol!

Gay to gay living

Greetings, fellow travellers. The heavens opened late this afternoon when I was out in town. Nairobians hate rain, the splashes from muddy waters stain their crisp business clothes and that means expensive dry cleaning bills. What never ceases to amaze is how many people seem to be caught up when the weather changes: if it rained yesterday at 5 pm-ish (which it did) and you were drenched because you hadn’t carried a brolly, it’s also likely to rain today (which it has) and you’ll be drenched again without your brolly. Makes perfect sense to me. So for a second day running I was treated to the spectacle of elegantly dressed women covering their heads with supermarket plastic carrier bags to save their precious weaves. I’ve heard that some weaves can shrink causing the wearer much embarrassment attempting to account for loss of hair bounce to a husband or lover. That’s the explanation for some of the unwashed nests you see some women carrying on their heads.

Recently a Kenyan friend who lives in Germany entrusted me with some cash to assist him purchase a property. He absolutely loved the internet pictures of the maisonettes at Greenspan at the eastern part of the city. I viewed the show house and confirmed that they are indeed very good value for money at 7.8 million shillings. Armed with a registered power of attorney, I’ve found myself deep in a maze with scum-of-the-earth ( aka lawyers), robbers (aka bankers) and con artistes (aka real estate agents). And I’ve been down some seriously dubious parts of the city trying to conclude this deal - for instance today I was dodging other pedestrians on Luthuli Avenue. Yes, you’ll find drug-addicted prostitutes, a witch-doctor’s practise and money counterfeiters on the same floor as advocates engaged in conveyancing. Poetic justice if you ask me.

On my way back to the car I popped into Tuskys supermarket and bought garden shears because the handle on ours fell off the other day. I also picked up a plant sprayer, because I’ve been trying to grow petunias in a pot and I discovered that the usual watering-can holes let out too much water meaning the seeds didn’t stay buried. When I got to the car there was a light drizzle starting and I spotted a young lad hawking pirate dvd’s. He was standing by a shop entrance wearing a faded t-shirt announcing Hardrock Café - Maui. I asked him his name as I flicked through his wares and he answered Kama which is short for Kamau. He looked very interesting and with much potential if you know what I mean, judging by the well-toned forearms. But I’m not looking - because I’m happily almost married to George - but if I was looking I wouldn’t have attempted anything with Kama because I prefer guys who’ve at least attained the legal age to buy alcohol in Iowa. I said thanks very much fella and paid him just 50 shillings for the dvd of Knight and Day, I didn’t feel even a twinge of guilt because I think Mr Cruise and Ms Diaz don’t need to watch the pennies.

Now we’ve just had our dinner. Imelda made a lovely minced beef and vegetable sauce stuffed into al dente ruote pasta wagon wheels. Sinfully delish. Looks like an early night for us watching the dvd and then I’ll see if George is in the mood. Don’t you lovely people stay up worrying about me - I have my secret tricks to get him crazy and I know exactly what buttons I have to press, hahahaha. Night, night.        

Lunch for one

Today I'm just spending some me time in Westlands, Sarit Centre to be exact. I've just been served this appetising meal at Flavours of Africa by a smiling young woman with a captivating gap in her upper front teeth. When she asked what drink I wanted she innocently made what I only understand to be the universal blowjob-at-the-end-of-porno-scene gesture, lol! I said yes, yes - cock, please.....hehehehe. I don't think she got it because I'm now just sipping on the real thing.

The problem with leaving everything to God

Once we finally got through the monstrous traffic jam along Outer ring road we were on our bouncy way along the scarred Kangundo road taking in the usual sights: grown man urinating on the roadside bushes just before Njiru and muguka-chewing matatu drivers at the helm of Isuzu and Toyota Hiace coffins.  But they were no match for cool cat Imelda at just below the max speed limit. Women are poor at parking but they are better drivers than men and speed is not what it’s all about. Imelda made me listen to Eminem ft Rihanna  Love The Way You Lie about 11 times that day, it's still playing inside my head even now.... Just gonna stand there and watch me burn, but that's alright....ta tata tata.....

I vetoed her suggestion though that we stop at Mawe Mbili Resort Park just before the bypass junction at Ruai for some roast meat because I said, Mel at this rate I'll be hobbling with gout before I'm forty five then who will want me . So we had a break at Joska, at Two Stars Restaurant, (definitely NOT Michelin stars), I had chapati and beef soup while Imelda had rice and beef stew, but I shared mine with a photogenic fly which drowned not able to take off after binge-drinking my soup. Oh, before I forget, we also came across two road blocks manned by bent cops, they took a casual look at us and waved us through but we spied them shame their uniform taking a hundred shillings to also allow minibuses carrying excess passengers.  Petty Corruption is an infectious and difficult to cure disease festering in greed. Poor Africans like myself seem to suffer it most.These kleptomaniac cops prefer hosing down the blood of maimed and dead citizens from minibuses cabrioletted after they've collided with speeding lorries. Further up the road Imelda pointed out a lorry that had a sign painted on its tail, hanging at your own risk.
 
Anyway, we finally arrived at my friend  Nyiva's home near a place called Mbilini just before 1.30 pm. Nyiva is also an ex-colleague who is recovering from recent  serious injuries sustained riding pillion on a bodaboda (motorcycle taxi). She also got her left foot caught in the spokes and smashed her elbow in the subsequent crash. She's making painfully slow progress getting fed with a straw through wired jaw. Nyiva exhausted her savings paying hospital bills now her teen son is getting bored at home because mum can't afford his school fees. Police still haven't found the reckless rider who abandoned Nyiva bleeding in a ditch when it happened. Like so many Kenyans Nyiva only said just leave it to God.

So Imelda and I were both very quiet in contemplation on the way back to Nairobi. Nyiva's words kept running through my mind like ticker tape. Leave it to God. Afghanistan. Beltran Leyva Cartel and the drug war in Mexico.  Motorcycle tips passenger over in Kangundo.  God.

Eid Mubarak

Imelda and I are on our way to Kangundo to visit a friend. At the moment though we are just getting baked under the hot Nairobi sun because Imelda opted for the Outer Ring Road instead of Jogoo Road now we are at a standstill at the Kariobangi roundabout. Maina Kageni is doing a good job at Classic 105 fm spinning some superb old skool. Treat her like a lady just played, I winked at Imelda, she says I always treat her like one. I said that's easy to do because you are a true lady.

Seeds of discord

I went out today to buy tree seeds because I’m tired of getting ripped off by the nurseries on Limuru Road. It was a lovely drive racing manic matatus from just after Muthangari, it was so exhilarating with the sun roof open and watching the lush green of trees on the central reservation go past, until I think after Uthiru where some quack of a road engineer decided to build a concrete solid wall for miles. So dangerous, expensive and unnecessary. I smiled when I passed ‘Nucleur’ service station.

I turned left at Zambezi (the filling station not the river otherwise you'll be in the wrong country Mr Livingstone, lol). My pirelli scorpion tyres and suspension groaned at the sight of the torn tarmac, stone and soil omelette of a road leading to Nderi where the Kenya Forestry Seed Centre at KEFRI is located.

When I got to the gate it was one thirty the guard said sorry but the staff are out to lunch. I said sawa sawa I'll just leave the car here and come back later so I alighted and started wandering down the gentle slope to dusty and sleepy Nderi trading centre. I also took this photo of the sign outside - one gold star for you and a kiss from me if you spotted the donkey.

I saw a young knock-kneed woman with lovely dimples selling fruit and veg and I said hello gorgeous. I asked her whether she could do me a mixed fruit salad, she laughed hahahaha until I could almost see her liver and said this is not Nairobi where you can buy anything. For instance, dear reader, you can buy an iPhone new in a box for 4999 shillings (less than 60 dollars) in the less salubrious parts of the capital city but it's designed in Shenzhen not California. Anyway, I said to Fruity Lady I know this is Nderi and settled for a banana at 5 shillings and told her ubarikiwe (be blessed), she replied nishabarikiwa tayari (I have already been blessed). Then I walked further down to Nderi Gen. Store which was advertising ice cold soda however this turned out to be room temperature soda because the fridge was not switched on. I walked back to the seed centre as it was now nearly two, passing idle groups of hungry looking young men. They turned to stare as I passed, George says people stare at me because I usually avoid eye contact and I have a walk that says I know who you did last night - only I know this can't be true if I wasn't there.

2pm I was back at KEFRI and bought my seeds from an unhelpful and unremarkable man let's call him Zephania. I think he pays money to speak because he only uttered monosyllabic phrases. His demeanour was unbothered and jaded. Then I was punished by a one hour wait from the cashier who was still out to lunch. She strolled in at 18 minutes past 3 looking bored with no apology. Because I can also be a petty, spoiled brat and I was feeling pissed off I didn’t even say thank you when she gave me my change, I just stormed off. Annoying public servants such as Miss Attitude are a law unto themselves.

Speaking of which on my way home I was stuck in traffic for more than an hour because a truck carrying some plant machinery had stalled and flow was restricted to one lane southbound. Arrrgggh x 99 to the power of 13. Traffic cop Scholastica Mutheu brandished her baton banging on car bonnets to stop matatu drivers from adding to the chaos. In spite of her valiant efforts I still got caught up in rush hour traffic further up the road. Not good.

Nairobi City Council’s Walk Of Shame

Yesterday Imelda and I ventured to Gikomba market, a ward on the east of Nairobi with a thriving industry for many things. There you find jua kali artisans hammering and welding the most fantastic array of creations out of sheets of metal from storage trunks to guttering. We were after a barbecue which we quickly found and purchased after about 45 minutes haggling with enterprising Patrick Omondi, a very likeable chap who told me he’s been running his business with his orphaned nephew Tony for 8 years.  Patrick even ordered us scalding-hot over sweetened tea served in green camping mugs; great guy with the whitest pearls I’ve seen in a long time and very surprising given how much sugar he puts in his tea. These are the faces of Kenyans that make me proud to be one unlike bloated politicians who make me sick. We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office (Aesop).

After we loaded our purchase in the boot we both felt ready for lunch, Imelda said she wanted to eat some stewed tripe and I also felt like having some because it’s been a long time mainly because none of our household can stand the smell when it’s getting cooked. But we enjoy eating it, funny that, I know! I said to Imelda I know just the place where we can have some delicious tripe stew with ugali and lashings of hot kachumbari  salad even though you risk catching some serious stomach bug due to suspect sanitation so I drove the short distance eastwards to Burma market because people should never fear an adventure.

Well, after parking the car we had to wade through the most disgusting unimaginable filthy muck of muddy gunge. You can see the picture here in case you don’t believe me.  It stank worse than raw sewage and looked like the vomit of a pregnant hippo. The bods at City Hall and whoever has been in-charge of the Constituency Development Fund ought to hang their heads in shame at the very least before rolling up their sleeves to shovel away this slime. Then they should explain how they can collect business permit fees, rates and god knows what other taxes and allow Nairobians to eke out a living in such deplorably unhygienic conditions.

Anyway I hope I haven’t put you off your lunch or the erotic thoughts you’re entertaining about the new colleague in the tight top in your office when you really should be working. Actually,  I didn’t even eat the tripe after  that sight which believe it or not was right bang outside the entrance to the market! When we got to Edu’s stall - whom I haven’t seen in at least three years -  I opted for roast meat and Imelda had stewed chicken with a saucer plate each of hot kachumbari. Both our meals  were excellent and at budget friendly prices.  You guys should visit Edu’s stall, say Tamaku sent you there for free food! Lol! But the moment was almost ruined afterwards when we had to retrace our steps over the soggy, gooey mess we both nearly brought up our lunch which would even have been a decoration to what was under our feet.      

    

How to make love to a woman

Hi diary. What have I been up to? Well this morning Imelda and I decided to go to Nairobi's Central Business district, something we very rarely do. The streets are just too crowded and it feels as if one is always navigating around people who stop to chat in the middle of the sidewalks oblivious of other pedestrian traffic. Anyway we parked the car at the Stanley carpark where the Nakumatt store that was destroyed by fire used to be. Then we made our way along Kimathi Street, Imelda was making me laugh saying that I should have worn that scarf I recently knitted for George because I was saying how cold I was in just a t-shirt. It's ridiculous that Nairobi is still chilly in the mornings even now in September.

We looked at some shop windows along Mama Ngina Street and went into Bata just next to Dormans where I treated Imelda to a lovely pair of brown Hush Puppies. She was over the moon with them. I was too with the free gift of a hijab which I got as part of the Eid Mubarak promotion that Bata have on at the moment. After that we popped into Dormans for an early lunch. I had grilled beef kebabs with sorrowful looking chips and served with a slice of tomato and a slice of cucumber! Imelda had a fish curry served with fried vegetable rice and a more substantial side salad.

I was feeling sleepy after the meal so Imelda drove us back home. I've just turned on my laptop sitting in the garden thinking about that hijab which I plan to wear for George coming home from work today. We can have some role play, I think I'll ask him to call me Shaafia for one night only, lol! I wanted to know how to wear the hijab like the alluring Kenyan Muslim women that fascinate me so much when I see them on the streets so I decided to ask google how. When I typed 'how to..' the top suggestion that showed up was 'how to make love to a woman'....Hmmmm. Surely.