Literacy Journey 1

Many a times I find people talking about their first school experience. Most Kenyans are farmiliar with the baby Class, Middle Class and Top Class system of Nursery School Education. Several have gone through it in the 8-4-4 age. Some have had to hold their left ear by passing the right arm over their heads, failure to which one was not “old enough” to start schooling. I didn’t. I don’t have any nursery school memories nor friends. My earliest memory of schooling was from my mom who was a teacher then. She taught me how to draw the devil on the ground, taught me how to listen to salaams on VOK radio, taught me how to use a spoon, she taught me everything, almost.

My dad was a cop then and he was prone to transfers to different parts of the country. Mom was a secondary school teacher and after teaching practice she was posted to a very remote part of Subukia area around Nakuru. The school was decent enough but deep into the village. To get to the school one had to alight and walk some 2kilometres of rough road into the interior. Those days language was not as developed as it is now and people from a particular area only spoke the language of that particular area. In this case, everyone around Subukia spoke Kikuyu and only Kikuyu. My mom is one so for her it was no problem. As for her children, (poor us), we had it rough. My older sis was enrolled in a nearby primary school in Standard One while I was to stay at home (the High School compound) with my toddler sister and the mboch. No school for me. The following year, peroz felt it fit to enroll me in the same shady school as my sister. The name as I can remember it was/is Magomano Primary School. First days in school was OK, because when the teacher became boring I used to jump out the window and go to my sister’s class, where I’d sit with her and the friends and entertain them in my fluent swahili until the next teacher showed up, then I would jump out the window again and go back to my class, where I was bullied by the bigger boys coz I couldn’t not speak their language then. At that time I had a very good relationship with my sister and would call her to fight my battles with them boys. Trust me she used to fight them, teeth, nails and all.

This school was a nightmare. The school structure was all old school. I can almost remember a thatched classroom, but for sure I remember that the floor was earthen and there were big square holes on the wall which I later came to learn were called windows in English (that was before Bill Gates Windows), dirisha in Swahili and well, tirisha in Kyuk. I could live with the structures, what gave me a headache was my sole business there. Learning. the teacher, (mwarimo) used to come to class and talk in Kikuyu for 40 minutes each lesson. If it was Mathematics, well, he taught in Kyuk, GHC was taught in Kyuk, even Kiswahili and English was taught in Kyuk.

sample this song

♫………♫

Teacher ni mwarimo ♫…♫
chair ni giti♫…♫ ♫
window ni dirisha♫…
hand ni gwoko…….♫…

♫ ♫ ♫…………♫

Come end of term and through the assessment tests, oral tests and any other tests they gave, I had no trouble pulling the tail as was expected by all but a clueless me.

Dad Bomseh was not amused. I remember him having a heated argument with mom and I knew things were going to work in my favour. Only I was going to go back to the torture school for one more term while mom applied for a job in another part of the country where teachers were called mwalimu rather than mwarimo. So when the school re-opened I was sent back to school but went for the first day only because I was escorted. Every other day for the whole term I used to leave in the morning like always, then divert on my way and go to a friend’s home where they had a better mboch than ours in that she was a mwarimo in other areas. So there I received sex education for almost a whole term and had she set an exam, I am confident that I’d have passed with cloud nine colours.

As fate would have it, my grand pa fell sick and dad found a lame excuse to take me from school to go and sit by my grandfather’s bed to receive blessings since I was the first-born son of all his grandchildren. I stayed with him for two days before he slept for good. I was informed that I wud finish my school term in Kitale and I was excited only that I didn’t realise that language barrier was getting worse. That was it, my mom had to find another job elsewhere, she succeeded and then immediately, we moved to Nakuru where everyone was speaking swahili and spoke mothertoungue only in their homes. I was home free and ready to learn. Problem was that one had to start school in January so I had a whole other term of sex education and biology with our new mboch. Thus, I started formal schooling when I was seven and finally dropped out again (for good?) when I was twenty one. Most of my friends are the people that have known me through my 14 years of schooling, those are also the people I have now lost touch with after the Africa-US migration.

The first song poem I recited in front of an audience when I was in Standard Three;

When man bothers you
Show him a snake
When a snake bothers you
Show it a stick
When a stick bothers you
Show it the fire
When the fire bothers you
Show it the water
When water bothers you
Show it GOD.

You might wonder why I still remember it, it is coz I was made to recite to all the visitors at our home.

DID YOU KNOW?

The longest syllable in the English Language is “SCREETCHED”

The Komodo Dragons from the Komodo, Rinja, padar and Flores Islands in Indonesia are not really dragons, they are lizzards

Salaams & Another Tag

Earlier today while I was chatting to mom I was lucky enough to get a webcam and activated it. She was soo excited to be seeing her long lost son, in real time. She typed “Hii webcam ndio nusu ya kuonana wachana na salamu za KBC“. That was a LOL moment with two smileys.

The statement kicked my memories to back in the day, before the internet and instant messaging, when salaams was the in thing, at least where I have roots. Those days of Medium Wave and BBC jioni. I was well versed with KBC radio’s programme (English Service) line-up and one Forces Request, every Wednesday night was my highlight of any given radio week. For the very young, (those who grew up in the FM age), Forces Request was a salaams programme which was especially for the brothers in uniform where they could request songs by calling in. I can’t remember for sure whether it was John Karaani presenting, but I can remember the kings of salaams in that programme.

The programme wasn’t complete without Sura Mbili Kiambo Momanyi, Martin Koko Kokonya Cocoa Tea or the king himself Mr. Shadrack Shoto Omnyololo. These guys could send salaams to a lot of people in record time, and at one time they even started attending ASK shows as part of the KBC show crew. What I have never confirmed is whether these three people were actually service men or just salaams men, but damn, they were good.

I remember one time I visited the KBC stall in the Nakuru ASK Show and saw them live in action. The Salaam Card cost Ksh.50 for a one minute salaam. Most people, due to lack of experience, were only able to send salaams to a few people. Enter Shoto Omnyololo and everyone was left with their jaws on the floor. Whether it was just for fun or he was serious, he sent salaams to a whole extended family and friends in the same one minute. It went a little something like this,

“Ningependa kutuma sarlamu kwa pipi yangu Apiskondita Nashikoro pamocha na watoto wangu Martin Omnyololo, Cheniffer Omnyololo na Chuma Omnyololo wakiwa nyumbani ingo, pia ningependa kusarlimia rafiki sangu wote wa pale ng’ombe moja huko ingo…Time was ticking….Ningependa pia kusalimia mchomba Martin Wanyama, watoto wake Shadrack Wanyama, Washington Wanyama, …..tick tick tick…..(and since time was ticking he decided to summarise) na Wanyama wooote kwa jumla!”

Yaani everyone bursted out laughing, wondering whether the salaams were to actual animals in general or Wanyama as a surname, seeing that some cows have names. It was hilarious. My turn came and for the first, and only time, my voice was heard on National Radio, countrywide. Mine was simple, I only knew of one person who would be listening to salaams and she was the only person I knew that would appreciate my efforts, so I kamatad mike, (also first and last time to hold one) and sent salaams

“Ningependa kusalimia nyanya yangu kuhu Machoine akiwa huko eneo ya Cheraa huko Kitale. Ujumbe ni kwamba Krismasi nitakuja kunywa maziwa ya Jennifer.”

That Chrismas was the best ever because as fate would have it, she had received her salaams instantly, resting under that tree (blue gum, not a mugumo) just outside her hut, and she had company. She was proud of me. I had mentioned her name on National Radio! So, all milk from Jen was mine for the whole holiday season, (I think that is when I quit milk).

Ooh, The other Tag

So I was challenged to complete this quiz by one Pink Memoirs. Here goes.

1. Your boyfriend/girlfriend cheats on you with your best friend, who are you (more) mad at?
I don’t have a best friend. Still if she cheated with a good friend, or anyone else for that matter, kwisha maneno. Unless I’m in the relationship for other benefits other than trust then I’d just hold on. OK, I’d be mad at both but still try to find out why she did it, what it is that the other guy does better, work on it, then kwisha maneno.

2. Is there something someone could say to you that would cross a boundary of not being able to take back or forgive them?
Yes, a lot of things. Especially belittling me. Even though I might forgive, I never forget, and I also make sure the offending party doesn’t.

3. What non-sexual body part do you find the sexiest?
If it is my body, none. If it is hers, the eyes and the nose.

4. Would you ever consider cosmetic surgery to have the perfect body?
Nope. I faced the knife once during initiation and that is enough surgery in one lifetime.

5. Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex?
Never have, never will.

Bonus (as in optional): If you were going to have a one night stand, who would you rather it be with- an ex or someone totally random you just met.
Someone totally random I just met. That is self-explanatory I guess. No baggage.

DID YOU KNOW?

That the King of Salaams is a title not for one person but three?
Shadrack Shoto Omnyololo
Martin Koko Kokonya Cocoa Tea
Sura Mbili Kiambo Momanyi.

The first recorded soccer game took place on a Tuesday in Derby England in the year 217 AD.

MANCHESTER UNITED is the strongest football / soccer team in Europe

AWARDS

It’s been almost two years since I discovered the wonderful e-land of blogging. I was looking for Kenyan music online and in one of the searches I landed on Magaidi where I got interesting downloads. While I was at it, I took time and read through his posts and clicked on links which brought me to KBW which opened into a wider community. I went through the member list, checking out the beautiful writing, the funny ones, the political ones and I decided that I was going to be part of that community. KBW then was very active with some bloggers, some who have now retired, or maybe died, and there were new ones joining and I decided to become the newest kid on the block. This happened just after the KBW awards so I never got to participate because it was over by the time I navigated, made friends with a member of the Admin team, who helped me out in my registration, guided me into blogging, and successfully opened my first home at blogger.com

Recently while I was blog-whoring I came across similar awards here and couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the KBW awards, that were supposed to be annual. The webring has grown and we have a lot of new guys checking in, each with a different way of writing and I guess now would be a good time to have such-like awards. Maybe this should be a letter to the Admin but I guess the admin watches everything that goes on in the ring and so might take cue and set the ball running or maybe any other creative blogger could organise.

In the meantime, isn’t it funny how things work out during political elections. I don’t actually understand why  guys are looking into Obama’s relations and and coming up with absurd geneological family connections. Ati Obama and President Bush are 10th cousins, once removed. Brad Pitt and Obama are ninth cousins, linked by Edwin Hickman, who died in Virginia in 1769 WTF! Then Clinton and Angelina Jolie are ninth cousins, twice removed, both related to Jean Cusson who died in St. Sulpice, Quebec, in 1718. Who cares? What sense does that make anyway and how does it affect the presidency? Do these people even know that they are related and does it even make any difference? Are we not all nth cousins several times removed, where n is any number more than one? All of us linked by Noah and those who survived the floods, who are in turn linked to Adam in another way. That makes my post on cousins more sensible. Some studies and projects are just time wasting. No wonder the source, The New England Historic Genealogical Society, founded in 1845, is a non-profit geneological organisation. Who would pay to be told that I am related to them? I don’t think many would accept my madness. And WTF is once removed, twice removed and whatever number removed? Removed from where? Wapi? Eish, someone please enlighten me on some these English words.

DID YOU KNOW?

The country with the youngest population is the Cote d’Ivore; 49.1% of this African nation;s population is under 15years old.

NNE MARA SABA

I was minding my own business then this came my way. Doaaz, Ok, sasawa, here are mine.

FOUR JOBS I HAVE WORKED

1. Tutor
2. Typist
3. Clerk (who hasn’t been one?)
4. Pusher (Remember this?)

FOUR MOVIES I WOULD WATCH OVER AND OVER

1. Pursuit of Happyness (It related to my version of pursuit)
2. Something’s Gotta Give
3. Anger Management (guuus frabbaaaa)
4. Uninvited Guest (has great sex scenes)

FOUR PLACES I HAVE LIVED

So far, seeing that life goes on
1. Nakuru (mtaani damu)
2. Nairobi (Zimma, Umo)
3. Kitale (ocha)
4. Durban (Home away from home)
…na bado!

FOUR TV SHOWS I LOVE

1. Friends
2. The War at Home
3. Biggest Loser
4. Cheaters (Though it is not really a series)

FOUR PLACES I HAVE BEEN ON VACATION

1. Ati vacation?
2. Naivasha
3. Mombasa
4. Maybe Durban coz all the beaches, big hotels, big assed mamaas, are all within walking distance

FOUR OF MY FAVOURITE FOODS

1. Ugali (I know)
2. Kuku (and birds like pigeon and siefu)
3. Sea foods (read, Omena, ngege, mbuta, any other fish)
4. Nyamchom

FOUR PLACES I WOULD RATHER BE NOW

1: In the house
2: With friends (The VCD)
3: Naks, preparing for the Ten-A-Side Rugby Tournament, cum Naks get together for the Naks guyz away
4: With my wife and kid

Tag yourself people. I guess most of you have already done it. Now I still got another harder one to complete courtesy of Pinkmemoirs.

DID YOU KNOW?

American Indians called their form of soccer PASUCKQUAKKOHOWOG, which means they gather to play ball with the foot.

In Australia, there is a place called Woolloomooloo

THE BET

There are some bets and dares that get out of hand and are not even worth the trouble, but men, or boys for that matter, being the creatures that they are, will often take all sorts of bets just to prove their worth to peers. Sometime last year, a young, beautiful, voluptuous, amicable, smart female university student committed suicide after a sex scandal in the Kwa-Zuku Natal area. In this case there was no suicide note, it wasn’t necessary because a video was available to explain everything. She didn’t avail the video herself, and that is the main reason she committed suicide.

This story is told of a very fly born-again student whom everyone wished was theirs. During one of the many idle talk by the male students, one particular foreign student dismissed the angelic status attributed to her by claiming that he hits the goodies. Of course everyone denied that fact since the guy was a known player and it was argued that he wouldn’t even secure a five-minute date with the damsel. The Cameroonian guy insisted, “I hit her ass on a regular basis you haters!” This mamaa had never been seen with any man apart from the CU men after fellowship. So the boys argued that if he (the Cameroonian) was telling the truth, there just had to be a way to prove his claims. He really wanted to be respected and so he embarked on a plan to prove to the boys that he actually tapped that ass, and tapped it good.

The guy using whatever means got the fly mamaa into his room, activated the webcam and recorded one of the best porn videos I’ve ever watched. No directors, no cuts, OK, he edited the foreplay and after-sex vybe and came up with just 11 minutes of non-stop action with the radio providing the soundtrack. (No, I won’t share the video, it’s 21MB). The video was a little bit amateurish, shot from one angle which had the whole bed in perfect view, but the girl knew her stuff and so did the boy. So this video was the proof which was shown to his friends in confidence. (Again, no, I am not one of them friends).

It is normal to have jealous double-crossing friends and with the easy and cheap availability of removable disks, the private ‘room-video’ was stolen and distributed in the campus through the student e-mail, network neighbourhood and general sharing of flashdisks and memory cards. Within hours, the pornstar got aware that her video was doing the rounds and upon watching it from a friend, all hell broke loose. Being the well respected lady that guys knew her to be, the ground refused to swallow her and she was too ashamed to live with it and she decided to end her life.

As fate would have it, the campus authorities got involved and soon the police checked in before the Madingo guy could make disappearing magic moves and got him arrested where he was charged with multiple charges, including unlicenced pornography, illegal distribution of the said pornography, manslaughter, among other major raps. The guy is going to spend quite some time behind bars.

Big question is, was it worth it? Enjoy he did as was evident in the video, but, what good is it doing him now? Memories fade, and even if they don’t, well, they fade. Only good is that he can wank from memory. Anyway, this brings the question of trust even in SBJ unions. It’s always good to be careful. You never know what the other party is up to. Blackmail is on the rise with the advance of technology and everyone needs to be responsible for their own actions.  In the meantime, was the pornstar’s actions justified? Could she not have lived with it? What’s so bad about sex anyway, between over 18’s that is? Apart from the irresponsibility of this case. Does it really matter who knows with whom ur dancing the horizonal rhumba with? Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie don’t seem to care that it is obvious they are doing it, should we?

DID YOU KNOW?

Athos, in Greece is the only place in the world that no woman has ever gone to

Compact disks read from the inside to the outside edge, the reverse of how a record works

 

F1

I believe that by accepting that one has a problem, it becomes a major leap into the healing process. Accepting that I have a problem and opening up and willing to get help, it is a still better leap into the bright future. With age comes more responsibilities. Growing up sucks. It fikas a point when one is independent completely, that whatever one does cannot be questioned by anyone else, at least not to their face. Recently, work has been getting in the way of drinking but the tables are being turned abruptly and drinking is getting in the way of work, love and life in general. I have been working hard and relaxing harder. I have been known to quit the habit every other week and a plan has to be made for salvation. Anyone has a workable, proven suggestion on how to save myself from the demons within?