Ghetto Livity!

June 15, 2009 at 2:36 pm | Posted in life | 2 Comments

Me I don’t send the watchie.

I prefer going for those chapos myself. See, he charges ‘mileage’. But me thinks that by buying that chapo, I already have paid the necessary taxes. Ask Uhuru.

Miser? I hear that registering in your head. But it’s beyond the point, any way. Though I may have miser-able tendencies, it only happens when I’ve reduced money to money-geable levels and every coin is to be accounted for. Such times have dawned on my spending doorstep. I’ m even afraid I won’t make it to the Tusker Safari Sevens Rugby affair to witness the…adrenalin and muscles?

No. Usoro tu. Seeing lotsa ladies, fashion trends, tricks and disasters is refreshing for someone with Glamorous ambitions. Its gives me lots of ideas (prey…but hey, back to lunch break storo.

Another reason I nyima the watchie that vital coin…although at times when I feel like sticking outdoors the whole time, is that i get to suck fire pleasurably, escaping this dark, claustrophobic office. For my viewership pleasure, I also get to see the weekends wreckages paraded at Industrial area police Station (ama venye wasee wa mtaa huiita- Inda/ Kinya). As I smoke like a train, past cops receiving bribes, I keep wondering if the driver and passengers really got alive. Some cars have scary damages. On the windshields, you actually get to see how the head of the driver created a bump…and the steering wheel, sadly reduced to a number 8 shape.

If this is all drunken driving, well, I’ll never touch a a a akoho if I’ll drive. Its appalling to land in heaven drunk. Yeah, I’ll believe I’ll go to heaven.

Speaking of drinking, where I do partake this cup of amorphous tea (a bad mixture of sugar, milk, water and God knows what else) I’m severally tempted not to touch the seductive amber bottles glistening on the bar, right opposite the Police Canteen. So far, I consider all my battles won, and my job reputation intact.

But I did not always come all this way. Just outside the office, there are several mama chai who peddle Kenya’s second favourite brew plus mandazis and chapattis cooked in the open air. When I was a fresh intern, I would sneak out and go dine with the mechanics who work on the Mercedes Benz garage within the compound. Not until we started talking with office mates, freely, and they openly rubbished the hygiene of the place. Though I never admitted frequently the place, I considered it fit to ‘upgrade’ my tea break excursions. There were numerous complaints of bad stomachs after taking the tea and mandazis the mama had to offer. Not at once have I ever had stomach upsets as a result of roadside food.

I am from the Ghetto, I think, and my stomach is as hardy. Not even the housefly sitting in the sugar dish distracted my sweet affair…I think I need to scrub my brains off this ghetto dirt…but why do I seamlessly fit in any class I come across? Maybe I need to set standards…like early last sem back at school, there was a certain group that allegedly left for an intervarsity Symposium in Uganda. I was to be in it..but something happened and I was left feeling bad about not visit this country …which holds the women of my dreams.

Like Winfrey of TPF 2 or 1..but that’s a story for another day.

Days later, the trip turned bitter after some food poisoning in a Champara Hotel. They all came back VERY  sick.

I wonder if I’d have been a victim too..with all this Ghetto Livity flowing in my blood.



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  1. Long time since I was here. Anyway, if road side dishes upset customers stomachs, how comes the mamas are still in business? Ooh, ghetto livity?

  2. I once got tested for some stomach upset and was told I had typhoid. The first thought that leaped to my mind was: Where did I get it? I thought back to all the roadside food and kiosky places I had eaten…so now I rarely venture there.

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