Her highness By Gift Mwachofi

The silence of night. Its tranquil nature an ambience to adore. As the day light comes to an end, as its constituents retire from the hustle and bustle of life, she watches from a distance and takes pride at her accomplishment. She is beautiful. She envelopes the entire surrounding and brings with it a characteristic beauty that is irresistibly attractive.
Her composition: starry nights, bright crescent shaped moon (this specific night), a calm breeze whistling through gently, chirping crickets carefully tucked in withered leaves, naturally lit fire flies landing on withered vegetation, bats, violently creeping out of their caves and landing upside down on projecting branches nibbling on the readily provided fruits, some ferociously attack the lonely cattle left behind whilst the rest obeyed her authority. It is a sight to behold, as the stars twinkle almost simultaneously and in harmony with the cricket chirps. The silhouettes exhibited by the various nature’s components, absolutely admirable. Her beauty is incomprehensive.
She begins as the sun’s rays sink and fade gracefully giving space for her to be in charge. Almost like a shift. She then takes the wheel and has the command of the evening. Her arrival has an effect on almost everyone under her cover, quite inevitable. She takes pride in her agility and even gets more domineering. Satisfied with her ability to unquestionably progress, she then takes comfort in watching how everything unfolds.

She is pleased with the re-union of her subjects in various households, all because of her doing. The chuckles and giggles, cries and reproof, the tingly noise from the cutlery signifying a sumptuous meal, the moaning (pleasantly) thereafter, from particular rooms; with this she applauds satisfactorily and continues to enjoy the different scenes. Solicitude is the source of her pride.
The vast territory she commands brings forth the characters that help conduct the individual affairs she desires. The shadows that willfully comply offer an endearing camouflage to the shy couple that has been staring awkwardly into each other’s eyes for a while, long and unmoored lawns provide comfortable “motels” for animals that had spotted each other in the light and are now offered a chance to progress with their intentions at their own pleasure, the poor church mouse, by her help can now nibble on the grains in the fields without fear of its life, the seeds that were dutifully buried beneath the surface of the earth can now sprout to the pleasure of the sower.
Quite impressive, she exhales and the trees bow consequently.
However, her dominion is challenged by some very hard headed knuckle heads. The bliss that comes along with her leadership is rudely interrupted. She can do nothing. Helpless.
She is actually the cause of it all.
Ruffians, eagerly waited for her preeminence had been granted the courtesy to conduct abominable acts,
Mosquitoes,
Night-mares,
Evils that come with her reign. It is saddening. She looks forward to her counterpart taking charge. What she meant for good is now fashioned to further horrific events. It is under her own prerogatory. Wailing from one corner of her kingdom, signifying misfortune, subtle laments from a quiet abode aroused by the endless humming of mosquitoes, unbearable screams from a toddler running half asleep and half-awake to her parents for fear of monsters creeping up to her/him in a dream. Young fellows soiling their beds.
She has no amends to these.
She perseveres. Some things are beyond her control. She overlooks the faults and takes pleasure in the good she’s able to accomplish. Her silence is suddenly broken by an irritating and persistent rooster alarm. Its time. She humbly excuses her reign and light finally welcomes the same subjects to her dominion, beautifully and cordially with the gleams of the bright morning star-the Sun.

Her day begins…….

Sermon of Sorts

Sikio la kupe halisikii dawa.”
How wrong does that sound? Almost as wrong as the story of a certain penis expert at Haga Hospital. Haga Hospital is in Netherlands, by the way. Haga Hospital couldn’t be in Kenya. Definitely not, definitely not. But what if it was? Just hypothetically speaking? What do you think it would be all about? I’m not sure I want to go too much into it but one thing I’m sure of is that most of the patients would be members of the infamous FKF. And I am not talking about the Football Kenya Federation. Yeah baby, you got that right. The Fisi Kenya Federation. And they wouldn’t have trouble paying consultation fees. You would even hear phrases like, “you can keep change” at the reception. And the staff at our mystery hospital would be the most satisfied. The doctors? They would never strike. What about the nurses? They wouldn’t have a lot of work so they would just stay beautiful with their brief white dresses and would sure as hell be the greatest victims of the FKF members. The female nurses, of course. Who gives a shit about male nurses? The specialists that will experience severe symptoms of fatigue and a rare condition of endless work from all the traffic to their offices would probably be ophthalmologists. The Fisis need good eyesight. They will need glasses or an upgrade of the ones they have. They will need contact lenses and eye drops and advice on how to maintain the sharp eagle eyesight. They will need to know the specific species of carrots that gives optimum results. And they will pay like they all get free money as allowances from lame meetings and conferences. Lakini politicians wetu kweli hawapendangi ujinga. Back to our dear Fisi Sacco members; they need to see these haga things and they will do just about anything. Anything for the hagas. So they will pay and Haga hospital will be rich and famous. Haga hospital in Kenya would be the hospital of the century.
Sikio la kupe halisikii dawa. This is a sentence I heard someone say. I was half attentive but I heard it and I was really disturbed. I completed primary school aeons ago and probably I should have forgotten about the methalis we used in our spicy inshas, you know, the niliamka-na-kudamka-asubuhi-na mapema-kabla-ya-jogoo-kuwika-kisha-nikatembea-kwa-mwendo-wa aste-aste-hadi-malighafuni-kukoga kind of inshas. But here’s the problem: I had not forgotten that it was actually supposed to be a methali (that’s Swahili for proverb, divas!) and that it sounded awfully wrong. And now this street preacher was busy telling these evidently tired, obviously bored and without a doubt absent-minded Nairobi people sitting on benches and concrete along Aga Khan Walk about this tick that doesn’t “listen to medicine”. This tick, apparently, is very stubborn and wants to kill this person or cow or whatever that it’s biting and no matter how much pesticide you spray on it, it won’t “hear”. It definitely won’t die. And he preached on and on. I was part of his little congregation, only I was not bored and absent-minded and disinterested. Well, I was earlier but as soon as he dropped that punchline about the interesting tick, all my attention shifted to him. I forgot all about my hunger and my broke ass and I focused on this ignorant man. Linda called me, disguised as some HR in some Nairobi office offering me a job and I was so happy then suddenly felt very depressed again and stupid when she laughed her signature laugh and I knew it was a prank. Man, I had been looking for a job like a crazy woman and you can imagine how that felt. Damn, that crazy bitch Linda! Damn these Airtel lines that people have as sim two! I had planned to be very angry at her but who could be angry with anything when there is an incredibly ignorant man in front of them and they probably don’t know it? A man who is not afraid to display his emptiness to the whole world, especially Nairobi? That takes extreme courage. So I forgave Linda. And kept listening. And as I kept listening, I thought of all these street preachers who obviously are in business. And how they keep denying it. How they keep saying that they are not preaching for the offering, how you don’t have to contribute but if you do, you will be blessed very much because you will be promoting the ministry and God’s work. And then you feel very guilty for not wanting to contribute so you give him half of your savings and sleep hungry. Also because you are very screwed and hopeless in life and would take any risk to experience blessings. I didn’t give anything though. I was damn serious about my broke ass. And right there! The crazy ignorant man said it! He said he wasn’t asking for money because he was doing his thing for the service of God. But why was he, after ten minutes, holding out a ridiculous basket asking these innocently tired and bored people to help build the ministry? Anyway, my brother arrived and we took off. I had been waiting for my amazingly amazing brother for like ten centuries. (Oh yeah, there’s a bunch of men in my life and one of them is my brother Kev. He’s been gone for a long time but he’s back and I think he’s gonna go back again, this time for good. You’ll be seeing a lot of him. He’s so nice in every way. God, doesn’t any of you listen to Abba?!!) We took off faster than our Koitalel brethren. I couldn’t take any more of this ignorance. And Kevin doesn’t take shit any more than I do. In fact he doesn’t take any kind of shit at all. So we went and had some Cappuccino. I think we should have had a swim or something as well. After such an experience, one needs to wash off all the ignorance hanging around lest it seeps into their informed self. You’ve heard of Osmosis and Diffusion, no? The movement of ignorant particles from a region of unbelievably high concentration to a region of incredibly low concentration or no concentration at all in this case. (Boy, aren’t I humble!). That’s diffusion? Right, that’s diffusion.
Challenge: go sit at Kencom, at Tom Mboya’s base (God, don’t I love Tom Mboya?) or even Aga Khan Walk, just directly opposite Uchumi. Sit and wait patiently and with steadfast hope. One empty person will surely show up. You will see wat I am talking about. I think instead of walking around all day making a few miserable dimes from misleading the children of God, it would be more efficient to stroll to a nearby carwash, wash two or three Harriers and earn a decent meal for your family. But these people I am talking about can’t even think like that. Emptiness is real, I tell ya! Be everything else in your life, just don’t be empty. But if just unfortunately, accidentally, too-bad-too-sad- for-you, you happen to be empty, discretion is one of the best attributes anyone could have.