Statistics indicate that cases of men being drugged in Nairobi are on the rise (believe me, I was a victim). One wonders why this still happens when men have learnt to be careful over the years especially with 'suspicious looking' ladies who prowl places of entertainment.
Well, here lies the problem - the definition of 'suspicious lookin' . Being as Kenyan as we are, most men judge suspicious looking ladies to be Kikuyu. Most of the ladies from western Kenya have been assumed to be 'mafala' and since stealing is a trait to be associated with Kiuks, men think they can be safe when paying for the companionship of Luo and Luhya ladies.
News flash - wajinga wa western wameerevuka. 70% of the ladies drugging men around town are from western Kenya. They pass off as docile and since they are not Kiuks, men think they cant steal! Thievery is not a preserve of a certain tribe. As long as politicians will continue to use us and leave us poor, anybody might as well become a thief. Instead of fighting the people who are feeding off us (read politicians) we are busy judging one tribe as thieves, another as flossy and yet another as mafala.
Just go out, pick a lady from western because she is not from the thieving tribe and the only thing you will remember is the name she told you (She told me that her name was Mitchelle Achieng). This is because you will wake up after hours at a place you dont know with nothing on you.
These traits dont reside in our accents!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Never be born!
I saw her pass
As I worked on settler’s farm
Her hair – a black shiny mass
Her breasts – full pointed and firm
I fell in love!
Down with settler’s farms
I will take up arms
Was it blood I shed, was it lives I lost?
It didn’t matter, settler had to go
To leave my house for my love
I had to marry Uhuru – my rain, my shine.
Was this the Uhuru I loved
The Uhuru I shed blood for, died for?
With settler’s kin Uhuru wined and dined at the table
While I ate crumbs in the kitchen.
With settler’s kin she slept in my bed
While I spent cold nights on the floor!
Uhuru must to go!
By the ballot though, not by arms
So I married another
Mabadiliko was her name.
Need I say who takes Mabadiliko out
Need I say who buys her lunch?
Settler is still the story.
And as I watch Mabadiliko,
Dressing up for a ‘business dinner’
At settler’s Investment Hotel
My heart ponders my fate, my destiny,
The beautiful ones will never be born!
As I worked on settler’s farm
Her hair – a black shiny mass
Her breasts – full pointed and firm
I fell in love!
Down with settler’s farms
I will take up arms
Was it blood I shed, was it lives I lost?
It didn’t matter, settler had to go
To leave my house for my love
I had to marry Uhuru – my rain, my shine.
Was this the Uhuru I loved
The Uhuru I shed blood for, died for?
With settler’s kin Uhuru wined and dined at the table
While I ate crumbs in the kitchen.
With settler’s kin she slept in my bed
While I spent cold nights on the floor!
Uhuru must to go!
By the ballot though, not by arms
So I married another
Mabadiliko was her name.
Need I say who takes Mabadiliko out
Need I say who buys her lunch?
Settler is still the story.
And as I watch Mabadiliko,
Dressing up for a ‘business dinner’
At settler’s Investment Hotel
My heart ponders my fate, my destiny,
The beautiful ones will never be born!
©2008 Otiato Opali
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About Me
- Poetikally Korrect!
- Though I might look like your common guy next door, there's more to me than meets the I. If you get the chance to meet the I, you will find out more about me.
