So we left Zimaz Restaurant at 3 am in the morning. After some deliberations we decided that it was still early to go home. Rather than go home, sleep a bit and wake up to go to church, we decided to go straight to church from where we will be. The place of our choice was Deep West, though now known by a different name. I asked Kasamu why in the first place that club was named as such. He told me, “You see, many years back cops found a man and woman there making children or trying to. The cops listened to what the woman was saying and it was something like this: come deep, deep deep deeper deeper, go west west west yeah west west deep west deep west deep west. They just burst out in laughter and from then on, the place came to be referred to as Deep West”. Whether this was true or false I did not try to find out since Kasamu has a tendency of saying very many untrue things especially in those hours.
Our reason of going to Deep West was primarily to watch buttocks. You see, if you want to see real buttocks, not padded or cushioned buttocks, but real stuff go to Deep West. I am telling you you will not be disappointed. There you will see buttocks that dogs bark at, thinking that it is meat that is about to drop on the ground and if not careful the dog can have a go at those buttocks.
I have not told you that one of my pastimes is watching buttocks of women. I started is hobby when I was still in college. It even appears on my CV. To get a job these days you have to be creative. Who knows, you may apply for an IMF job and that IMF boss, Strauss-Kahn, could just be in the panel of interviewers. I can imagine him becoming friend instantly after going through the hobbies and interests section of my CV.
So if you find yourself at Deep West, you will see all sorts of buttocks…big, small, round, and square, rectangular, rhombus, trapezium etc. As Idi Amin would put it, Deep West is the headquarters of buttocks. Of late, I have come to notice a certain type of buttocks that I have not been seeing. This type is a bit threatening as well as worrying. These are buttocks that are not of the same size. One buttock is bigger than another. In other words the two buttocks are not uniform. If you are near a mirror right now you can check the situation of your buttocks. Having taken a keen interest in finding out what some of these women with such buttocks are eating, I decided to follow up on two of these women. And oh my God, they are eating broiler chicken. Upon further research I found out that the chemicals that these broiler chickens are fed on can be transferred to human beings and one place they find comfort in is the buttocks where they continue being active. Hence the reason why so many women are having one buttock longer than the other. If you find yourself doing any of the following, know that one of your buttocks is longer than the other;
If you have carried a pillow from home to use it as a cushion in the office, then one buttock is longer than another.
If you can’t sit on a wooden chair and you find it so uncomfortable, then one buttock is longer than another.
If you find yourself tilting on one side while seated, then one of your buttocks is longer than another.
If you are walking and find yourself veering off the road and you have not had an accident like President Kibaki, then one buttock is longer than the other.
If you have ears stop eating that meat. It is not good. Men are also growing boobs. If your husband has something that looks like boobs, know that he has been eating lots of broiler chicken. What kind of meat is that if you can eat it together with the bones? If your husband is growing buttocks on the knees, know that he is eating meat from broiler chickens. Stop him. I would have talked more about the size of men’s buttocks but I will leave that to Ms Nancy Baraza, DCJ, as she completes her ground breaking PH.D research! I do not want to be misquoted or lose a public office job.
So Kasamu touched and squeezed and patted and caressed a few of those buttocks till 6 am when we decided to go home. We had committed many half-sins that night and so thought it a good idea to go and repent. We headed to Bishop Ngagas for the neno. We listed all our sins. Kasamu’s sins were more: his fingers doing the walking and at some point measuring the oil level, touching others buttocks with their permission, and above all imagining doing what you are not doing. Mine were few…looking at @wazua ladies and imagining. So we were prayed for. I am not sure what language the prayer was in, but I guess God heard it. Our next stop was Maharvest Church because we wanted to dance and to make Kasamu exorcise those demons. We found the place lively. Kasamu danced like the world was going to come to an end that evening. I had to remind him every now then that we were not in Lalaamkahapa Bar where Yatta Mbois Mbendi played regularly. That man can really dance to Kilumi But he asked me a question that I could not answer, ‘If the climax of the song is the same as that found at Lalaamkahapa Bar, how am I supposed to dance’. I could not answer that one. I think we were very much blessed.
We parted at mid day but had to meet again at 4.00 pm that afternoon with Plato. The purpose of the meeting that afternoon was to help Plato with his domestic issues. I have told you before that Plato is married to a lady whose mouth runs like a Kicomi shirt. That lady can talk. She talks like a gramophone at a speed of 78 RPM (rounds per minute). For the broiler chicken generation, we used to have gramophones where you could insert a vinyl record and listen to real music. That was before the advent of CDS (not condoms!), mp3s, Ipods etc. A Gramophone could be set to move at a speed of 33 rpm, 48 rpm or 78 rpm. 48 rpm was the standard. If you set it at 78 rpm, it meant that you wanted the record to run very fast and it was it was not easy to hear the words. Plato’s wife was a woman talking at a speed of 78 rpm. A very troublesome wife. But on the other hand Plato was very kind, polite and friendly. When he talked, it was with honor and dignity. He was not wordy. Infact when he talked, it was like he was talking in poetry and that every word he uttered was so costly to him that the fewer words he used, the less money he was using. That was Plato.
Platos wife was not big either. If you want to get a clear picture of how she looks, marks of parenthesis () would be a perfect description of her appearance. Then stand those marks of parenthesis on two tooth picks. Then you will get a complete picture of the person I am talking about. She had the appearance of an avocado standing on two tooth picks.
The meeting started at 4.00 pm. We decided to add Shakespeare to the panel of those listening to Plato’s predicament. Shakespeare is single. You know what? If you want to spice a group of guys you hang out with, you should add a single person. Shakespeare was our guy. He fed us with the latest news, ranging from which MP caught HIV last week to which butchery in town is selling warthog meat! A very valuable guy indeed. I will tell you more about Shakespeare in not very distant future and how he lost his last semester’s fees at Mulolongo.
I was the Chairman and Kasamu was the secretary. I started by telling Plato that since he wanted to be assisted or in other words he had come to be circumcised, he should appear naked. In other words, he was to tell us everything. We asked him what his ‘inside the bed sheets life’ with his wife was like. He told us it was all fine. He said it was fine because he could not make a mistake of arriving before she arrives! That would be suicidal. So we gave him a tick there because with men eating all these broiler chicken, they had become useless inside the bed sheets and women had turned to Maina Kageni for help! His main problem was that Kalekye, his wife, was nagging him too much. After serious deliberations, it was decided that Plato will drink several beers that evening and dilute the beers with Famous Groose, like @Mjoro. Then he will go home looking like Nebuchadnezzar and issue threats. We had agreed that among our group no man should ever touch a woman. Domestic violence in our group is outlawed. But other weapons can be used. Such weapons include serious threats, silence that could go on for one month among others.
Kumbe all this time Plato had been thinking how to solve his problem and talking to us was like Godsend. It was a catalyst. We escorted Plato home, looking seriously like a toothless lion. He hit the house buzzer. As usual Kalekye came downstairs with her mouth running at a speed of 78 rpm. When she opened the door, Plato took hold of her, swung her round five times and threw her up in the air. It took a minute for her to come down. He waited for her and as soon as he put her down, she went down on her knees with her hands raised up…and Plato was free at last…. I, Shakespeare and Kasamu went home knowing that Plato’s life would never be the same again.