As I promised, I had to let you in on what would become of me and my crew, for that retreat at the said boat of horrors. And, people, wasn’t it an experience? Am still nursing me hangovers though it happened a fortnight ago…ok, I lied, am just dying to share the experience!
Before I share the story, can somebody lend me a colt or magnum to snuff out some nuccas in the IT department? I have been thoroughly deprived one of my basic need and for this, someone ought to go down??
Anyho’ here we go…
The retreat. Ahem! It carried with it the moment of perfect happiness that has verily evaded me for some time.
Oh, and the most adrenalin-rushing moment! It happened…during my sleep. That sato… And it wasn’t to do with some raunchy thoughts or nubile company- men think of other things too, c’mon!
Apparently, it was the throbbing of a powerful engine that filled the chilly morning atmosphere- my eyelids, heavy as they were, lit up slightly as my heart churned at the thought of what lay ahead.
The fcking motorshow-cum-bikini car wash!
Ok after citing these rides i will post soon , I wasn’t as embarrassed to realize later on that it was actually a tractor that had penetrated my early morning thoughts!
Man and machine!
Well, I am not a fanatic of cars or anything, in fact, the thought and site of them, unlike many of my brood, never excites me as much- BUT I definitely love showbiz!!!!
Now, this is how it was to be: Mash Auto, Pulse (am sure you read that last friday but….) and some other companies, DSTV included were to host an Motorshow at Crayfish in preparation of the East Africa Motorshow in Dec…there have never been a much better coincidence- like loads of money, booze and a bloody warm beautiful mammal that has been evading your sharpest arrows, finally to be ensnared by your up to the ceiling wads of cash, smooth personality…bird man style hehe….and yeah, till you wake up coz u only half dreaming!
Only that I wasn’t.
Our crew were a bunch of mr & mrses too goody shoes fellaz. Not that am is a bad boy, but I was just thinking outside the tent. It was a retreat, which would mean retreating out of normal lifestyle…get wild while keeping in line with the mission and vision of your ‘sponsors’. LOL.
See, they weren’t as boring but maaan, I had to fly and if inebriated, crrrrrawwwl out of the nest. Kwanza after my ka-proje wasn’t feeling me as much as I would have wanted to her believe I did. So much for randomness… Imagine, she even left me in the rain, wasn’t willing to be an umbrella- I literally soaked! Hand her the tissue for me tsk tsk…But I aint one to let such shortcomings, however subtle, infiltrate my fun-loving-jolly-happy-go-lucky matrix.
On the first night, that is Friday we set out for ‘ma-roundi mwenda around this ultimate get away…We ended up at what I like to call the greamhouze- ok, be not shaken, it is this club house, built in the format of a greenhouse and rightly named so. Inside, it has those barrels for tables, ‘sina-taabu’ stools made of wood and sisal, side sofas, a great service area and the dee-jays cubical at a strategic corner on the extreme left. The music is great and with the dance floor having mirrors on each extreme side, the crowd is another post altogether.
Thank God they don’t allow paparazzi inside.
Sadly, it had to be closed early in preparation of the next days’ motorshow event- I took one long last look coz I knew you had to part with a K to see the inside of the greamhouse the following day. I wasn’t willing…
Foxes of a feather
Sato dragged on a bit slow and thanks to continuous drizzle that turned the place into a nice lush green carpet- more so, i was happy the party was about to be ruined he he…I mean, It drizzled till past midnight! By then, the Fox and his comely other half had departed and the only other dude who would rhyme with my foxiness was none other that our chief chef! Foxes of a feather…
After wrapping and lapping out our supper, we rolled on 20, gave up finjes at the nearby town for tha ‘in-famous grouse’.
I drowned all my sorrows, in the dingy den, rain pouring its grievances outside, ill-mannered patrons dancing madly to some bongo tunes…till Lucky Dube came calling and I and I stood up to be counted.
The chief chef interested me with his life story and the social lubricant made it all the while great- I mean, there is a drop of Guinness in every man, I had my story too!
Sidebar: I wonder why drunk men tell of their great-should-have-made-it stories, who they have met, women-they-dated-no-scrap-that,beded, secret kid they have and finish it off with the all too common of a virgin Christian girl tagging on their cloak, asking for a hand in marriage…
Smitten to smithereens
Afterwards, we headed to greamhouze, corrupted the bouncers and I have never seen a much more lively party! By their looks and apparel (forgive the beer goggles) majority was Nairobians having a swell of a time. I wakilisha-d too, especially the rock session…and that’s when I think I spotted someone like smitta. My instincts were in high gear that I edged closer for a look… but his state-ass kinda raised some doubt…he spotted short dreads and a goatee- all qualifiers that it was him- but he was totally wasted, shirtless, had/has a small pot, three-kwenje khaki shorts, white socks and some Nike airs sneakers- he made me feel sober.
I spotted him severally and played down the thought till I left the greamhouze for my tent.
But the thought remained resident in my mind…
It all came to be on Sunday when, in a bid to shake the sadness of heading back to town, took a walk to the Lake- I and my company, decided to drop by and see the limos that were on show…now, pics are worth a thousand words in this case- BUT I met the Smitta, CEO and some other writers, crazy Nairobi dudes whose talk bordered the dumpsite in D.
…but talk about happiness, I met the writer I have always admired, and for my roughness and well-reversed lines, got a compliment.
It was worth the while. I was mashed by the auto-rides, bashed by the in-famous grouse and smitten by the poetic genius…again I have more hope of joining showbiz…sooner, or later.
**the rest of the photos are with another guy anadai kuingizwa bosk ndo azitoe….jo! i have to post them, especially coz they have the ridez,celebz and did i say bare bikini backs? oh and that kiddo was the kiddo of this German mama who tagged along.poor thing, he..sorry she has this upara that her name became kihara…which, strange enough, rhymed with her German name which i forget- i told u i dont love kids hehe/
***the rest of th captions:up thea kabisa is fox, boyf. and some lady..hapo chini is the smiley boyo with ‘the company’.girl has brain, wit and ‘intelligensia’ i miss a lot in my daily encounters…big ups to Beato, ha. The other one is of course, the black out!
otherwise, i missed the blogosphere.more rants soon!
Tags: newshit, newspaperrants, retardedrants
well, my week was hitting this bad end, cancelled dates and an apparently mal-nourished pocket when the good news came. it seems, ‘several’ years later, fruits of my pained labors as a freshman are paying. a fully paid retreat to crayfish?
psssssssssst- i think its that ka-place DnG turned from a Disciple and God to Drinks n Gals…
don’t ask what am tagging along, pics and stories will be duly served to you afterwards, blogrens.
i hope it will be fun.it will be, it must be!
fun, fellowship and food.
but i know the conceptions that have been there about Naivasha in the media, from the place being a haven for rapist and weirdos. in fact, only last week, Crazy Monday carried a feature on the hallowing tales.
i don’t know what makes Naivasha such a boat of horrors- somebody, do flowers turn good men into rapists?plenty of them?SMH.
i think ni pepo tu mbaya…ishindwe!
MEANwhile, the main reason i did this post is that MY first ever post on boyfulani was on a retreat to the same place, then a perfect get away place at Fisherman’s camp. It was a November, i remember, you can check this URL and probably see me and my earlier ‘crushes ha ha!
on a much sober thought, 138 posts later(when am i hitting the 200th mark?) i think its time i got some serious chunk out of boyfulani. he never is, aki, as you may have noted. that bit and others….if i survive the vamps in naiv… i have a little bundle of joy for your eyes.
makombora,makelele, mathoughts,ma-insights,…drums roll..tidididididi,
here comes the media maverick amatuer
enjoy your weekend(s), thanks for dropping at mine!
Tags: kikuyudialogues, randommoments
cretus ndung’u kiratu.
that’s my cousin for you.
i happen to masquarade under the same name- though with some alterations-interchangeably, actually. maybe this is why we were tight back in the day. me and him, him and me?cretus and kiratus? meeeeeeeeeen, like the legendary two cheeks of the butt, we faced life side to side- only shit came in between.i know that phrase is as tired as some backsides, but…it did work then.
ok, i mean, our history runs deep- picture the abovecracks. sometimes, it got through messy and gross phases like the former statement. but the memory has since remained…
see, it was like this. every holiday, we met at our granniez place. it was the ultimate meltdown for any holiday- we never kosad plans. it was only recently that i went rural and discovered little else had changed. grannies kitchen still has the same 19 fote fae trass…with soot hanging above like icicles in an iceland igloo.black soot, mark you, threatening to spice up your indigenous meal.(i wonder what all those sons in US of Ass do for mum)
anyway, it is here that cretus and i whetted our vast appetite. cretus had a tad too big of an appetite than mine, considering his physique. he had( or still has) this dark complexion, a footballish head that always reminded me of a character in those west african treadsetter storybooks i liked (Foli Fights the Forgers, Eyes and Ears)…his teeth were neatly arranged like a freshly harvested maize cob (or do u se ‘unorwad?-‘peeled’ that is) and his mouth amused me most when he had to do some stunt that cracked me up kabisa- he imitated his dads Toyota Hilux, KYX 345, which has definately seen better days…
” vreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeem” he would ‘vroom’, his mouth forming a funny protrusion, little drops of saliva spilling forcefully out of his pursed lips. i ‘poured myself in laughter’ (kuing’aurira mitheko yaani’.at times, he used this to crack me up when i was mad at him.
nooooooooooow, this particular holiday, before a shosho spinned for us ugali no. 19 (the one that turns green in the morning) and some patches of sukumawiki, cretus thought of a very bright idea. it was a hot aftey, lunch was late, and we were quite bored. we unanimously agreed that we ‘could check on some juicy sugar cane over the hedge owned by one key-raw(a neighbouring no non sense man whose name, ‘myth and legend’ had it was from ‘ kill…then killo…pronounced, kee-raw.people used to ask him to ‘kill’ for them one sugarcane from his fairly large plantation…
so, here we were, Cretus taking the honour of making headway into the plantation…bundles of neatly tied sugarcane were a stone throw away from the fence…and man, dint they look juicy? Cretus went ahead to ‘kagua gwaride ya kwanza/inspect the 1st parade…and i was hunched at another trying to look for the root of this particularly dark one(the darker the cane, the sweeter the juice). kwak!Cretus was chap chap, down went his first harvest, kWak! again, the ‘githethwa’(non sweet part) was away and before he could start eating at his, i literally swang with mine…and came down with it..
“tiga waana man!” wacha utoi man, we will be heard…
no sooner…ok now this sounds like a compo….had i started to peel my piece of cane than some rufflings from inside the plantation came through….
“gai, key-raw!” i could see the terror in eyes as he chorad a K, cane still in hand.
i,the other kiratu, dropped my cane and as i picked up with his pace, i heard some breeze pass by leg…grease in my knees kwishad-it was a fcking panga!!!!
“rugamai hau ihii ishi kana demohore fanga cia da!” stop, you lads or i slash your stomachs..
the coward i was couldn’t move another step and i just stood still…Cretus on the other hand, was on his way up the fence.
i had sold him, but haidhuru, key-raw was going to kill me, so it mattered less…or so i thought.
a rude hand grabbed me, dragged me along as he shouted at Cuzo, who was now looking back..cane still in hand: you go and you get your brother delivered in pieces…tonite.
the finality in his voice, the murder he wrote with his eyes…Cretus had to bow down.
at least- i lived to tell the tale!
sometimes, its good to take some time off and relieve all the steam clogging your system. last week-end, i was sure i needed such. and what’s better that a fully paid weekend retreat out-of-town?
never gets cooler, in the pursuit of happiness. and what the heck is happiness by the way? is it fulfilment? is it success? is there a corelation? and if it doth exist, where are lines, link, limits and in which order do they appear?
i care less. all i know is that success is gettting what you want, happiness liking that which you get and fulfiment..achieving what you wanted to get!
fun should be random..but first, size up the photos before i chip in my usual na(s)tty comments!
we share a lot in common with this dude.yeah as you can see. we both cleared from a school of hard knocks which only he i and Titus Naikuini( of the KA fame) knows. even though we deny it, our c.v. bears the same indelible mark damn am proud!!
my photo is on the other side of the camera..come on now, join me!
why do chicks pretend that they ‘dont eat that much?’ well carol tells it like it is>> this is her third plate. i now know why her voice was not heard much…especially during meal times 🙂
erm , no comment shagmodoz.spot boyo thea.
which one fits best, Beato ana wake….ama they are making a succes card cover now that its kcse time?
Larry….pliz dont try this in the bush. the close-up ad will now work…even if she thinks u make her fly like the birds hahah
she broke ma heart.thats why al have her twisted!! peter!! am jealous..ahhah b chela..u can still unbreaaaaaaaak my heart..lol
ourr album cover.camera man/woman, you could have zoomed a wee bit closer. either way, our album is coming out soon. we havent even decided on the name of our group/crowd. its team work anyway.
scared of the waters.good excuse, but that didnt justify why gachara, larry, edu, fakulie(yeah from the land of diamonds, Sierra Leone) had to use the bitter weather of the region to skip shower for three good days.
yeah right. at last i captured the face i was so much after…but then, the presence of some people nullifys the kill..damn, this life. 😦
erm erm..i forgot woti wanted to say even.but surely..hanging on the kiloli cha guka is forbidden!
even the boiz pulled their pose kwa kiloli cha guka? duh!! tony..exteme right yes you…haha we now know why the net has been on the low on campus..if this is what yu have been upto..even delaying this post!
why does she appear here again, carol? is there something Boyo aint telling us?? haha tell them to read in between the frames!
do the maths…
gachara. n chela, refer to peter above. u get the point.
i liked this. the river longue** so serene, so cool, so wet..so completed my happiness. notice that it is in past tense.
and thaz it. when i get other ‘interesting photos’ al post. however:
everywhere i go in the pursuit for happiness, there is always this stray dog that prevents me from being happy.