A LETTER TO THE MODERN WOMAN

Dear Modern Day Woman,

I am talking to you. Yes, you with long manicured nails. Yes, you who just stepped out of that big car. Yes, you in long (fake) hair and red lips. Yes, you who wears 6-inched heels and short skirts. You who dines in posh and expensive hotels. You who goes to Dubai and Malaysia for a shopping spree with your 'girls". You who scares the skin out of the male folks in the working place. You who they call a "bitch" because you do not care about who you step on to be able to afford a 5 bedroomed house in Runda. Yes, you woman. You who is enjoying all these things because before you, there was a group of "village" women who fought to have you enjoy them.

I am ashamed because of the women of your generation. I am talking about the mid-twenties to the forty- year old woman. Are you so self centered that you do not care? Are you so blind that you cannot see what is happening to your small sister? Look at you, with your fake hair, spiky heels and mini skirts as you rush to work. You are successful and independent women. You  have come from far. You have struggled to be where you are, right?

Wrong. Some other woman struggled for you to enjoy the freedom that you are enjoying right now.  Some woman felt that she needs to fight for coming generations, so that another woman can be empowered. That woman went for a convention in Beijing, came back and decided to teach the younger generation on what being a woman is all about. Before you, that woman was just a house-wife, her greatest role was to bear children till her eggs ran out and serve her master. That woman was raped and misused; not given a chance to go to school and work and be as independent as you are right now. That woman decided that she has had enough and rose up to defend herself and women of generations to come. She stood up. She fought. She went to school. She took charge of her life and decided that she will have a say in the number of children that she bears. She stood tall. And that is why you can stand tall too. That is why you find yourself in a boardroom, men listening to you. That is why your role right now is not confined in the kitchen. Yes, that woman is to be applauded.

But what about you, woman of this generation? What have you done that is remarkable? What empowerment knowledge have you passed to your young sisters? Woman, are you so busy that you do not care about the younger generation? Have you turned a blind eye to the wrong path that I, your young sister, are taking? Have you watched the news lately and seen how girls as young as thirteen are getting pregnant? Did you see the worrying numbers of abortions that are taking place? Do you care?

I know you are a busy woman. You probably don't care. You probably have a board meeting to go to. But could you halt a minute and talk to a me? Mentor me? Tell me that twerking is not the new way of making money. Tell me that my body is special and I need to be in control. Tell me that the sight of a camera should not be a cue for me to show my underwear to the world. Tell me that you worked hard to be where you are right now. That a few years back, you also lived in a bedsitter in Mathare but you worked hard to be promoted.

Take a minute and care. Someone before you cared and that is why you are empowered. I know you have a salon meeting, maybe you need to rush to the bank but could you stop and take a minute to tell  16-year-old me that sex is not the solution to my problems? The generation behind you would really appreciate a role model in you. Seriously, could you stop twerking for a minute? Thank you. Now go and be a mentor.

Your truly,
Small sister.

KENYA AT 50; WE NEED TO CELEBRATE.

Who said that there is nothing to celebrate in Kenya? We have plenty of achievements and have made great strides in Kenya and we do need 2.5 Billion to celebrate. Sit your behinds down as I tell you of the many achievements we need to celebrate in Kenya. 

Firstly, we have the teachers' strike, sorry double-strike. We can celebrate that, can't we? Look at it this way, teachers go on strike, the government flexes its muscles, teachers go back to class then the government withholds their salaries, teachers go back to the streets. See the cycle? What is not to celebrate there? Our government has muscles and has mastered the art of deceit. Don't get me wrong. Being a deceitful one is a good quality when dealing with "unruly" characters like teachers. Besides, we have plenty of private schools around, why bother with a "small' population that is in Public schools? My child is in a private institution, she was not affected by the strike. Reason to celebrate.

Secondly, have you checked your receipt after shopping for essential items? Here is a quick way of knowing how much you will spend according to the items in your shopping basket. For every 3 items that you pick from the shelf, consider Ksh.1000 already spent. Don't believe me? Okay. So, back on track, if we did not have money in our pockets, how is it possible that supermarkets are always full of spenders? Is that not cause to celebrate? That we have money in our pockets? 

Our economy can sustain a salaries of legislators who are ranked second highest paid in the world (congratulations Nigeria, you beat us to that).  Our economy can build an 80-year old man an office worth 700 Million Shillings and buy balloons for the Silver Jubilee celebrations. Oh, we do need a 50 Million bronze statue to remind us of the former president. Who doesn't know that a statue is more important than doctors' threats to go on strike because they have not been paid their salaries? Have you checked out the public wage bill? See world, we can afford to buy balloons, publicity and a statue for just 2.5B. Stop calling us a 3rd world country. Hello America, your dollar is flooring our shilling? We are not worried about that. Watch our Shilling, it will overtake the Dollar soon. Just watch this space.

Who said that we can't celebrate? Look, the VP went on a tour around Africa by a hired private jet. We have "misplaced' the documents needed to audit the true amount used to hire the jet. It was at a cost of just Ksh. 100M. Pocket change, uh? But then, we have a culture of "misplacing" things. Like when a certain former Finance Minister misplaced a couple of zeros in the national budget. Remember that? 

So, ye Kenyans complaining that we do not have cause to celebrate, think again. Look around you. Check out that MP who just passed you on the road in a convoy of 12 cars and a couple of whining motorcycles. Just check out how poor Turkana residents are despite the discovery of oil in their backyard. Check out how mineral rich Kwale is but ignore the poverty of people who live there. Check out our MPs' pay cheques and celebrate as teachers, doctors etc fight to have a few hundred notes in their pockets. Who said we cannot celebrate? 50 years is ground for celebration. Look, we are even demolishing houses to build roads. I mean, do we even care how long someone has saved to put up a house? Can't you see that we need to celebrate the recalling of security details for some leaders? That is a lot of taxpayers' money recovered.

So, let's all join in celebration. Let's not make noise dear Kenyans because we can fund the celebrations. 2.5B is pocket change. Teachers, doctors, the military and everyone else are just noisemakers and celebration-resistant people. We really need to celebrate. It is good for Public Relations, right? Besides, as we fill our stomachs with food and watch the balloons fly high, we will hug each other and smile because, Kenya is 50 years old; we have moved from being a colony of white people to a colony of black brothers.

As I raise my glass of water (I can't afford wine), here's to my country. Happy 50 years. 

THE NETWORKING PROBLEM AMONG WOMEN

Are women their own worst enemies? This is a question that many have posed and nodded to when asked. I am not here to agree or disagree with this but to put a point across. Recently, I went out dancing with a bunch of my girls. It was one of those nights where we happened to meet at a cosy joint that had some good live band on stage. In our company, were two guys, a black and a white guy. As we danced and made merry, I noticed that the two guys were engaged in serious conversation and I was curious to find out what it was that they were so engrossed in. I mean, it is night, the band is entertaining and they are in the company of 3 beautiful ladies, just what serious conversation would take place in such a setting? It should be noted that the two men had never met before, it so happened that they were dating my two friends who knew each other.

I had to ask what they were talking about so I took my curious self to where they were seated. They were discussing business and prospective money-generating activities that they can engage in in Kenya. You should have seen them talk, they looked like they had known each other for a long time. I looked around the club. Most of the women were gyratting on the dancing floor, moving their hips in provocative ways as they seduced their men, most of whom were left seated on the table, sipping their drinks. A few laps around the club made me realize that men were talking, occassionally lifting their heads to glance in the direction of their wome, who would in turn move suggestively and "vibrate" more.

As I sat down with my "girls" after a dancing session, one of them observed that women would never be equal to men in the economic world because men have a strong powerful weapon that most women do not possess. MEN SEIZE EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO NETWORK. I started to disagree, but I had to hold my tongue when I noticed that the men we were seated with had already exchanged contacts with four other men seated on a different table. What about the women in the club? Oh, we danced and eyed each others dress and commented on the shoes that "that girl seated on that table was wearing" or the way "that girl was dressed in a short dress which did not flatter her body shape." Did I forget to mention that we were on the look-out for that woman who would dare come near "my man"?

So, are women really their own worst enemies? Do we seize opportunities to network and build business relations? Or do we size each other and refrain from making important contacts just because we are women?

That was an important lesson on that day. Business relations can be formed anywhere, at any time. Be it in a nightclub, in a salon during manicures, or in the toilet taking a leak. Have you ever considered that the person seated next to you in a salon might be a C.E.O of a company and may offer you an internship/job? Or do you stare at her hairdo and silently pray that the relaxer burns her scalp?

I do not believe that women are jealous of each other, I just think that we pass up many opportunities to network and be great. No wonder, there are very few women leaders in the corporate world as compared to men.

Picture courtesy: Source.

OF DOGS, GIRLS AND THE SHILLING.

There is a story whispered in Kenya of a couple of college girls who were "lured" into acting a porn movie by a foreigner. Now, it is further whispered that a dog (an actual dog) was involved in this drama. To make it even juicier, there are louder whispers of the girls being offered a measly ksh.3000 to take part in the show.Furthermore, someone had the decency of posting the names and photos of the young women on the internet. Their parents must be so proud of their little girls.

Okay, away from the whispers, it is a sad occurence when brilliant and beautiful girls are lured into such an act for pay. And it is even sadder when we get to laugh and ridicule them without looking at the wider picture. I believe that the whole society is to blame here. And I am not talking about their and our parents/grandparents. Rather, I am talking about the younger, hippier and "swaggered" section of society that worships money and anything shiny. How many of you have looked down upon a fellow college-mate or workmate just because they have not "chanukad"? We talk about lanes people want to belong in acceptable lanes, right? The lane of glamor and beauty.

The media is awash with beautiful, well-adorned women who look so polished and pretty. Right from the hair (which is fake by the way) to the painted toe nails in stylish high heels. Plenty of college-going girls have expensive possessions, some you would not expect a college student to have. Like, how does a college student afford and maintain a Ksh.15,000 weave (again, it is a weave, not their real hair). Or how do you explain a college student who is lounging in Watamu this weekend and eating fish along the shores of Lake Victoria the next one?

We have let money and glitzy possessions define us and where in society we belong. And we have put the pressure on our young sisters to be glamorous as their ticket to be accepted in society. Many have done things to be among the "accepted" in society. These girls, whom we condemn and ridicule behind the safety of our computers had the misfortune of being caught, so we laugh.

We laugh at their exposed "closets", because our sins are locked away. A lock is just that, and maybe one day, the clothes and junk we pile in the closet will be too much for a flimsy lock and all may come tumbling out. Therefore, before we point fingers at these college girls who engaged in unacceptable acts, let us point a few fingers our way.

Our young sisters are getting lost in murky waters of seeking fame and a few coins. Are we not the ones who have celebrated and made famous women who pose nude and termed them "socialites"? Are we not the ones who have defined lanes according to how many photos that I can post on instagram traversing the country? Are we not the ones who have said that it is okay to look glamorous, and that we do not care how or where you get the money from? Are we not the ones who have folded our hands and encouraged our little sisters to try out the new "bendover" dancing style and clapped as she bent and twisted? Are we not...

So, while we stand there and adopt the holier-than-thou demeanor, just remember that that girl found committing a bestiality act with a dog may have been your sister or cousin or friend. Just what example are you setting to your sibling. Is their self worth less important than a few coins in the purse?

A letter from a voter who is a thief.

 Dear Hon. Adan Duale,

I hear that you called me a thief, yes I am a voter and I am a thief. You see, Dear Adan Duale, I do agree, I am a thief and I am deeply ashamed of myself for having stolen from MPs.

I am an ordinary Kenyan who woke up at 5am, no, I slept at the polling station so that I would be among the first in line to vote for you. Unfortunately, by 11am, the polling station was not open yet and I still braved the scorching sun and waited for the polling clerks to finish their slumber and open up the stations. That day, you comfortably sat in your house, arrived at the polling station in a Prado and proceeded to the front of the line to vote for yourself. You are a Mheshimiwa and I am a thief.

I hear that they call you Honourable, and I shall call you thus. So, Hon. Duale, I am the thief who left her sukumawiki kibanda to come and cast my vote for you. I am that thief that owns a motorbike but decided that voting for you was a better venture that day than toiling for that 200 shilling note that I take home every day. By the way, how much is a 200 shilling note to you? I bet you do not even know how that note looks like. I have seen you count your money and you only handle millions, right? Besides, half a million pay is meagre pay to you. How do we, Kenyans, expect you, Mheshimiwa, to survive on a half a million shilling budget? Oh, and the car, house, entertainment etc allowances. Those are too little and cannot support your Honourable expenses.

So, let us talk about this half a million salary that cannot support your lifestyle. I wish that the thief in me could lay a hand on such an amount. Do you know what I would do? Oh, Honorable MP, I would expand my kibanda and open a duka, I would send my child to secondary school, I would buy myself a nice pair of shoes so that I do not go barefooted, my mother is sick but I cannot afford her hospital bill, I would finally be able to. I have always dreamt of owning my own 1-roomed house where my children would call home, I bet that I can have that with half a million shillings.

This letter is to apologize to you, oh dear Honourable MP. I have realized that I am  a thief and I sincerely apologize for robbing you of a comfortable life. But I know what you can do so that the thief in me does not interfere with your lifestyle. We can switch roles, spend a day being me and get to experience how a thief lives like.

You see, Honourable MP, I am the kind of thief who steals Museveni's cows and bundles them all inside Parliament Buildings to huddle closely and plot on how they are "going to protect the Constitution." I am a thief who had no sense of judgement before I decided to steal all 300+ cows and put them under one shed. What is it they say about a cow being a cow even if dressed in suits and sitted at the back of a sleek limousine?

Sincerely,

Kenyan Thief.

MR. CHARISMATIC

He is known in online circles as gathukimundu, but then he says that that is not his real name. He owns the website www.gathukimundu.com, which carries witty and humorous articles. Last week, his website carried an article about a letter addressed to two well known socialites in Kenya (Hudda Monroe and Shiro Waruinge) which caused quite a storm on the online streets.

IN SUMMARY, WHO IS GATHUKIMUNDU?
First of all my real name is not Gathukimundu, and I’m not the Radio Jambo guy. I'm just your ordinary guy, with an ordinary life, trying to make ends meet.Men want to be like me; Women want to sleep with me(Just kidding)..I’m that shy quiet guy that skipped growing up,so he had to start a blog.

IF YOU WERE ASKED TO DESCRIBE YOURSELF IN 1 WORD, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Charismatic

OTHER THAN BLOGGING, WHAT ELSE DO YOU DO?
I own two companies: One a tracking, fleet management and car accessories company; the second is a new art and fashion company still in the making

TELL ME SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR BLOG, GATHUKIMUNDU.COM, HOW DID YOU START AND WHAT IS IT ABOUT?
Gathukimundu.com is a journey,about life,about my life,personal progress,thoughts,God,growth,me. I always wanted to write since I was young,so one day in college I started gathukimundu.blogspot.com which(last year) matured into gathukimundu.com

YOUR ARTICLES ARE QUITE ENTERTAINING AND WITTY, WHAT INSPIRES YOU?
 Thank you for the kind words. Life inspires me, Oyunga Pala inspires me, Biko Zulu inspires me.I want to do articles that will stand the test of time, I don’t want to open my blog ten years to come and hit my head on the concrete. Every share, every like,every comment I get from my articles...that inspires me.

YOU BREWED UP QUITE A STORM WHEN YOUR WEBSITE HOSTED AN ARTICLE THAT WAS A LETTER ADDRESSED TO SOCIALITES SHIRO WARUINGE AND HUDDAH MONROE. TELL ME ABOUT THE LETTER.
Ever since the internet became this cheap,approaching women became easier for guys like us..so
one day I ‘stumbled’ upon ‘anonymous’ in some social site,hit it off,and asked her to do a post.She’s
already done two guest posts,Letter to Team Mafisi, and the scathing attack to Shee and Huddah. So
when she Emailed me the letter the title was enough...I posted it and the rest is history...

YOU KEEP A LOW PROFILE ON SOCIAL MEDIA, AND YET YOU HAVE A CONTROVERSIAL BLOG. WHY?
 I love my privacy. Who I am in real life is totally different from who I am on social media.

WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST FEAR IN LIFE? 
Not succeeding.

WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN 5 YEARS?
Having built that Children’s home and church  I’ve always wanted to build, married with three boys...and bloody rich.

PARTING SHOT?
Wait,how many shots do you want??3?No?Try Jesus. If you don't like Him, the devil will always take you back.

You can check out more of his articles on www.gathukimundu.com

A MATURE 25...

Twenty-five  is the year of confusion. You are not a child anymore, but then you are not fully grown-up adult. It is that age that one need to make major decisions about one's life. Thirty, the year of grownups, is just around the corner. I was eighteen the other day, I mean, twenty-one was just a few months back! Like a creepy crawling creature, twenty five is here, without warning, without a signal.

Here are a few things that I think that every twenty-five year old and those aspiring to be twenty-five years old should have or do.

Have a savings plan : I know we all blow our money on shoes, a nice car, a nice jacket and oh my God, that jacket was super fabulous, I just had to have it! i know I should have saved but then how would I have had that form-hugging dress? Hey, I need to look fabulous. That is the-before-twenty-five-me talking. The two-months-away-from-twenty-five-me is thinking, oh crap! Thirty is just five years away, forty is less than twenty years away, and sixty seems closer still. I need to save! And to think of a retirement scheme (cringe).

Be in a steady relationship : Yes, the years of hook-ups are over. No more "chips fungas", one-night stands or just-for-fun-girl/boyfriends. This is Africa, and a (wo)man reaches an age that he/she needs to get serious, especially where relationships are concerned. Your aunties and uncles start introducing you to a friend's daughter/ son. The message they are passing to you? Your biological clock is ticking and they desperately need little nieces and nephews to pamper, or at least, an in-law they can bully.  Twenty- five without at least someone you aspire to spend the rest of your life with, according to African customs is too old, and don't say that I never warned you when you meet up with your friends who are happily married or in steady relationships, while you go home to a cold house or call up one of your many "fungas" to warm up the bed for you.

Move out of your parent's house: I know, you love your mother (and father). Your mother is the best cook. You don't know how to wash your clothes. You cant be bothered to do the dishes (after all, your parent's have a house-help). A wise man once said that, you can help a hungry man by bringing him fish everyday, but to really help that hungry man, show him how to fish and he will never go hungry again. Imagine yourself as the hungry man. Your parents are the fishermen who are constantly giving you fish. Don't you think that it is time to go fish for yourself? After all, all they have done is fish for you for twenty-five years. Who knows, you might find out that you inherited your mother's talent in the kitchen, and who said that cooking cannot be turned into a money making venture?

Get a serious job: Earning your own money is the greatest freedom a human being can have. Get a job. Stop asking your parents for money to top-up your phone. Stop asking for money to buy sanitary pads. Be independent. At twenty-five, be responsible, trek to look for that job you desire. Being a coach potato does not help much. As I earlier said, learn to fish and you will never go hungry.

Lastly, look forward to being twenty-five. You are going to enjoy it (I know, I am. I am not yet there, same way that I was not twenty a few years back). I had fun at twenty, twenty one, who said that I can't have fun at twenty-five? The only thing I am going to do different is to GET SERIOUS! Happy twenty-five years old.

The modern day Judas.

He betrayed Jesus! Jesus wept!

 

2012 is over. The world did not end in 2012: the Mayans are liars. Jesus heeded my prayer and delayed the end for a few more days/ months/years, whichever He chooses. I have so much to do that I had to ask him to take his time. 

Like I haven't realized my vision. 

Surely, Jesus would give my country a chance to realise the famous Vision 2030 dream. I hear we will have great roads and highways and we would be an ICT nation and oh, the education system would be marvelous. Did I hear someone say that the economy would be booming?  I want to be here to hear the economy boom, literally. So please Jesus, take your time. 2030 is not far away and you would not deny a chance to a vision-2030-must-see-fan, would you?

Back to the modern day Judas. No, I am not talking about the Judas who betrays you and is given just thirty pieces of silver. Judas (I mean the bible Judas Iscariot), you would have done better. Thirty pieces of silver is equivalent to thirty  Kenyan shillings (in my world), which cannot even buy a loaf of bread. Did I tell you that a quarter kilogramme of sugar is fifty shillings? Now, Judas, thirty pieces of silver?  To betray your master? Woiyee.

So, the modern day Judas. No, he is not packaged as that friend who betrayed you by stealing your boyfriend (by the way,nobody "steals" a boyfriend, he just found someone better than you, too bad that someone  else happened to be your best friend.)  

 

Rather, he comes in the form of the people who will not make me realize my vision 2030 dream. The people who will betray my dream by stuffing a few pieces of silver in their pockets so as to betray my country. You see, I look forward to 2030. I have a dream that I will buy a loaf of bread at less than thirty pieces of silver, that I can walk into a shop and be served by a robot (yey!). That escalators and electric trains will be everywhere. That it will take me less than 30- minutes to go from one county to another.

Oh, dear Judas, please do not betray me. Please do not accept the thirty pieces of silver. Please do not accept that plot of land. Abeg-o, do not make my vision 2030 into a vision 20-nothing. Not when i have petitioned Jesus not to end the world in 2012 (He listens and He is thinking about it).

Please Judas, do not make me weep.