I will tell you briefly where I had been. My efforts to get a rhino horn found me at Ol Tukai Lodge in Amboseli National Park. My grandfather told me never to give up on something you have set your mind on. Pursue it to the end. With granny’s adage I set out to try again. While at the National Park I found myself staring at two rhinos. They were so near. The horn was so near yet too too far away. That night, I said to myself, “Magigi, son of the old block, forget about this whole business of hunting for a rhino horn. Getting it is as hard as President Kibaki sacking a corrupt minister”. The following morning while still thinking about the rhino horn, I found myself gazing fixedly at Adam.
If you don’t know who Adam is, I will tell you. I am not talking about the Adam @Famooz writes about. No. This Adam is the King of elephants at Amboseli National Park. When I spotted Adam, he was walking with two women elephants, two on each side. One Game Warden told me that Adam copulates with all women elephants without permission. He has express license to love all women elephants around there. As if to confirm what he had just said, I saw Adam move away from his four women elephants and turn to another two elephants that were nearby. I saw the man elephant move away and give way to Adam. Then Adam started doing some foreplay and before anybody could say ‘Syokimau or Al Shabab’ Adam was already eating the fruit! I looked at him and wished I was him. I also pitied the man elephant that had been robbed of its fruit. I looked at Adam’s balls and my mind started having ideas. My Primary school English teacher used to tell us that if you can’t land on the moon, aim at the stars. I also remember him telling us that cutting an elephant’s balls is not a problem, the problem is tying its legs…Anyway I will continue updating you on my efforts to get Adam’s balls.
Now, back to issues of last Thursday. Every bad thing that happens there is a silver lining to it. I remember reading a Luhya dirge while at Secondary school. In fact the poem was one of the two set in the final Literature paper exam. For those who are queensically challenged, a dirge means a funeral song. It went like this;
If death were not here, where would the inheritor get things?
The bicycle has been left for the inheritor
If death were not here, where would the inheritor get things?
The bed has been left for the inheritor
If death were not here, where would the inheritor get things?
The wife has been left for the inheritor
Etc
One of the questions asked was “What is the attitude of the singer towards death”? For those who are career mourners of course failed the paper terribly because they answered the question based on the trauma death brings. In the poem I quickly spotted the benefits of death, especially having to inherit a wife, and that is how I reaped a distinction one in Literature in English!.
Now, while watching the news after Mwaula’s pub was ‘grenaded’, I saw the disaster caused and of course I empathized with those affected. But remember, if death were not here, where would the inheritor get things? As the Cameraman swung his camera from one side of the pub to another, I spotted a piece of paper pinned on the wall reading, “Alcohol served only with food”. It is this piece of paper that pulled me to Mwaula’s pub on Thursday at 12 noon. How would I have known about this piece of paper if death were not here? I arrived at the pub a few minutes past noon and for sure those who were eating were also partaking of Summit. I saw majority of the patrons had
Njahi and matumbo in front of them. If you don’t know what Njahi is, it is the most celebrated delicacy from Mt Kenya. But if you ask me, I would rather eat a pig’s anus than eat njahi! But since I wanted to drink, I ordered matumbo and Njahi and a bottle of summit. I looked at the matumbo sitting on top of the njahi and wondered if anybody could eat that. But before I could complete that thought, I saw two policemen walk in. What occurred to me that minute was that they had come to arrest those who were breaking the law by drinking before 5 pm. I took the spoon and dipped it inside the njahi and came out with a mature helpful, shoved it in my mouth…and man, I can assure you that a pig’s anus could taste better!!!. I swallowed and followed it with a gulp of summit. The policemen continued coming in and out. Little did I know that they were looking for Al Shabab boys and had forgotten about drinking hours completely. Every time a policeman walked in I found myself eating more and more njahi and matumbo. By 2 pm I had finished one plate. So as to continue drinking, I ordered a mug of soup. By 5 pm I had drunk 7 Summits and cleared 2 plates of njahi and matumbo. Now, by 6 pm, I started hearing a quarrel inside my stomach. I guess it was Njahi and Matumbo quarreling over who should form the most toxic gas that was going to come out of me in form of a fart!. I can assure you that it was one form of a fart. By 6.30 pm, I decided I had had enough and had to go home to Bugatti.
I found myself at Kencom and boarded a bus heading to Ngong. Now when I got to Nakumatt Junction, I put my hand in my pocket and fished out car keys. “How could this be”? I asked myself. I could not remember driving my probox to town. Then it slowly dawned on me that I had parked my Probox at Reinsurance Plaza before I headed to Mwaulas Pub. This is not the first time I have had issues with my Probox. I remember last year forgetting that I had not come to town by it. After about 10 beers, I walked to where I thought I had parked it, only to find out that it was not there. I went to the central police station and reported car theft. After reporting, I called Bugatti to inform her of the theft.
“Which car has been stolen or you have bought another one”.She asked me
“It is my Probox”, I answered.
“Jinga kabisa, satani muthenya (Satan in daylight), your car is right here at home”.
Then she started saying a prayer asking God to guide the devil home because with those brains of a pig, he won’t be able to trace where home is. I switched off the phone when the prayer was still in the air. What happened when I got home 8 hours later is a story for another day.
So when I got my Probox, I said to myself, “Magigi, son of man, son of the old block, the one who could eat thorns like Adam the elephant and they go through the intestines coming out looking the way they entered, Magigi, the lion who can shit more shit than Adam the elephant, why are you going home so early? Are you the one who married or you are married, why don’t you go to Mlolongo and listen to live Kamba music, why don’t you to Kwa Muri, loyal tavan,
Vala mbiti yakindiiwe ( where the hyena was f laid) and dance to Kamba music”?
My journey started well until I went past Cabanas. The Probox stopped and when I checked the dashboard, the fuel indicator was red. I packed it beside the road. Though the petrol stations were not very far way from where I was, I decided to try out something new. I opened the fuel tank, peed inside, about 2 liters of Summit pee. When I had just finished peeing, I felt like farting. I directed my arse towards the fuel filler …. And let out a thunderous fart. I corked it very fast, took the driver’s seat and started the engine. I had never felt something like this in my life with cars. The engine started very well and just a slight touch on the accelerator and the car was flying…All of this courtesy of Njahi and Matumbo. And with that came my new innovation of Magigi Virgin Power Plus Fuel, fuel with extra high octane. I am sending the formula to officials of Formula 1 to see if they can use it during the next racing season. Just near the bridge, I saw a lady waving me to stop. Since I was in a good mood, I stopped and gave her a lift. She was good looking. After a few niceties, I asked her if she could give me a dashboard confessional.
“A what?” She asked
“…. Mmmmhhh, I am asking you, where are you going” and she told me she was going to Mlolongo… Since she looked like the ones who will suck you dry before they surrender what Adams enjoys freely, I let her go.
At Kwa Muri, Mlolongo, Loyal tavan, I found a one man guitar strumming the guitar and singing his arse off. The song was Mbiti ndyenzawa King’ee - (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=115E4q2doQA - the hyena’s beards are never shaved)
After this song I heard the guitarist tell those who were dancing,
“Namba uthi umia, ungamai oou” (I have gone to shit, just stay as you are).
And the crowd waited as instructed. After a few minutes he came back and said,
‘Ndyii na wituuo, no mai ma kawaita ( I was not diarrhearing, it was just normal shit).
Then he took his guitar and sang Telesia
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzEM_UHVlAw
Kamba musicians never cease to amaze me… Then he did a Luo song Jane Achieng -
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5CIIQ025KM Just as I was finishing my third beer I saw a lady who was seated a few feet from me. She was nice looking but slightly bulky, weighing about a half a tone, as per Mlolongo units of measurements .…Of course at my state anything was looking good. I asked her her name and one thing led to another. How I found myself in her room at a place I don’t know, I don’t know. As soon as we entered her house, I heard her shout,
“Mueni, umepata ng’ombe reo”.
“Ndio nimepata, iko hapa imerara na haitaki kumwaga haraka na unajua Kamau Sadaka amenipigia akaniambia reo yeye ndiye arihesabu sadaka niende haraka”
“Mueni”
“Ndio Wanjiku”
“Nirikwabia nini njuu ya hao Ngombe hawataki kumwaga haraka”
“Si nirisahau”, Mueni said.
“Sitatakwabia tena, hii ndio mara ya mwisho”
“Niabie tafadhari”
“Unaziba masikio na vidole na kusodeka kisingino kwa mkundu”
As soon as she uttered the word ‘kisingino’, I heard a cry as if of a man in great pain and I knew that Mueni must have confused the two…Put the kidole there and the kisingino there. I knew I had to do something. I was in danger and had to flee.
“Wanjiku” , I called her.
“Ndio, Ngombe yangu”
“ I want to relieve myself”
“Haja ndogo au kubwa, Kama ni ndogo eda hapo nje na kama ni kubwa chukua hii juala”
“Ni ndogo”
“Haya, basi, enda nje”
As soon as I stepped outside her door, I did a formula 1 that I will never forget. I remember negotiating a corner where one of my ears touched the ground…The way they live!!!
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