If you are traveling to a country that professes a different faith from yours, carry a toilet paper. Here is the story. After a good lunch of spaghetti, it was time to visit the toilet. Spaghetti there is the equivalent of Muthokoi where I come from. I sat there for a few minutes enjoying every bit of it. Sigmund Freud once said that shitting is just as pleasurable as having sex! …And I think he was right. In a country where sex is scarce, men spend a little bit of time in toilets, groaning and farting. I did my thing and now was the time to wipe thy arse. I looked around and lo, there was no toilet paper in sight. I looked again and my worst fears were confirmed. I was going to wash it, yes wash thy arse!. Standing up and confused I said a short prayer.
“Lord Jesus Christ, the one and only one who gave the camel extra tank for storing fat, the good Lord who created the tortoise and gave it a metal jacket, the one and only Lord who makes it possible for a chameleon to change its dress a thousand times in a day…Lord Jesus Christ, help me out or come down and take me home!"
The only other time I found myself in such a predicament was in the late 90s at a place called Old Fangak in Sudan. Now during that period there was so much hunger that people were not having enough shit to go around for all the flies. When I arrived there I could see a swarm of flies following whoever was heading to the toilet. When it was my turn, of course the flies chased me. As soon as I was done and before I could say Salva Kiir, the flies had invaded my arse and eaten every speck of shit around that area…There was no need of a toilet paper. True story. Why should I lie! As I stood there I asked God to send that swarm of flies to help me out!
I looked around and saw a pipe that had something that looked like a tap nozzle attached to it. I picked it, looked at it with amazement and wondered…Was I supposed to stick this thing up my arse and let the water flow and voila, my arse would come out sparkling clean? No no no…This is not the toilet training Mwaitu gave me. I looked around again. Lucky enough it was a toilet cum bathroom. I had to take a shower. Now, there are those of you who despise a particular Sunday daily, the one that publishes everything…even mating of dogs is a big story…That paper saved me for three days before I could have access to a toilet paper…Thank you Lord. Those were heavy shitty days. Never say I didn’t tell you.Enough of that shitty talk...Been listening too much of Millie Jackson's Back to the shit!
I found this interesting. Take a read …
"While on the toilet, one must remain silent. Talking, answering greetings or greeting others is strongly discouraged. When defecating together, two men cannot converse, nor look at each other's genitals, and especially not handle each other's genitals. A man should not touch his genitals with the right hand…" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Islamic_toilet_etiquette
…Salaaaaaaaaaalaaaaa…
There are those men who, when they are in the toilet, it is like the whole house is at war…
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If you are like @Impunity and can’t stay for a minute without patting some lady’s buttocks, Somali is not the place for you. Men and women are like oil and water. They never mix. Men on this side, women on the other side. I always wondered whether couples share the same bed…And this weird thought crossed my mind…That even if they do, after every shot (Pastor Njeru and Mwende shots) the man goes to a different room, waits for the dick (not his body) to yearn for some more and goes back for more food and as soon as he is through he leaves her to retire in a different room. At least I warned you it was just a weird thought!!!
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Ever since coming back home, I have perfected the art of clearing my throat and spitting. I have actually become a nuisance to other family members because as soon as everybody has served and ready to eat I clear my throat and spit in the nearest sink. I also have an accent. For exaample you could hear me say something like "The beable here are blanning to make sure that the brochekt succeeds…" Who said it is only in America where you can copy lifestyles!
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When you hear shooting in the air, it is either war or peace. In my second day, a popular person was appointed to an important position. For 3 hours the whole town was abuzz with gunshots. There were gunshots from each house. And as I sat there I thought…oh kumbe…the ammunition factory in Eldoret!!!.
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If you are conducting a workshop or some training for a group, never ever wait for silence. Everybody talks and everybody listens. And while you are carrying out the workshop or training, somebody with along brown painted beard will walk in to the room and start negotiating the price of a camel with one of the participants. They will not walk out to seal the deal …My worst fear of course was if they disagree and they all pull out their guns… Never say I did not tell you. If you ever decide to go train there, friends, go back to school and equip yourself with new pedagogical approaches based on the brief I have given you. You will also need the services of Kavutha (she of Project fame) to train you on how to stretch your vocal cords because you will need to shout.
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Somali is a nice place for folks like @Alma who have tried to quit alcohol but all in vain. I am now ISO certified teetotaler. Who needs to go back to alcohol after staying for 3 weeks without any. It is also a good place for pastors who can’t live without shots. Men there drink tea until midnight.
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If Somali was Kenya, the whole of @Gukas village would not be having any limbs. There you don’t steal. Your arms and legs would go. Can you imagine a village of men and women without hands and legs?...and @Guka coming for Wazua Mbuzi in that state!!!
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Somali is the best country in the world for girls to grow up in. Can you imagine the pain you go through every time you sent your 12 year old daughter to the nearby kiosk for a matchbox? All those boys who got circumcised the last season and would like to practice… In Somali you can do this and wait for your daughter to come home comfortably. Should a man think otherwise this is the likely scenario
http://www.gistmania.com...attach=20870&image. Very appropriate punishment if you ask me.
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And finally as I was getting nearer to the first security checkpoint, I heard somebody selling stuff, “Medicine of chooting coakloaches… Medicine of chooting coakloaches… Medicine of chooting coakloaches. Choot all the coakloaches in the house, buy the medicine….. ”. I looked back and shouted, Kamau! And back came the answer, “ii wamucii…!!!”
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All flights originating from Somalia have to land in Wajir International Airport (did not know it existed!) and all passengers have to get cleared from there. It’s like you are all rejects. All the luggage has to come down for inspection. There was that big castrated dog; I think it is a German Shepherd that went round sniffing and detecting if any luggage contained any bad device…I looked at the dog and wondered to myself, “If Ferdi Waititus could be castrated and provided with a dog’s training he could actually become a god man”.