Of secession and Ndii: My way or the Highway.

Continue reading “Of secession and Ndii: My way or the Highway.”


Kijabe chronicles

There are cold places and then there is Kijabe. You can tell you are in a different place right from when you step off the vehicle at that nondescript junction off Nairobi-Nakuru highway. Everyone here is heavily clothed and with a woolen cap, ( I guess those caps are stuffed with chicken feathers too). Their sense of fashion too is gory to say the least, here matching colors is for the rainbows only.

Fifty shillings later, you will most likely find yourself at AIC kijabe mission hospital, at least that’s where my fifty Bob took me. Interestingly, there ain’t many matatus on this route, instead there is a herd of old Toyota fielders, most of them thirsting for a mechanic and a good wash. If it’s your first time here like me, you can’t tell that the fifty bob fare is actually a rip-off. It is really given that the vehicle uses more of gravity than fuel to descend to the bowel of the earth where the famous hospital is located. My fielder driver almost engaged neutral almost immediately we had left Stage ya Baridi ( na mahindi choma).

If you are one of those environmental freaks who love lots of green and chirping birds, this is your place.

There is nothing much to write about the hospital except for the fact that they start their day with lots of prayers, I guess to encourage the sick and the dying. Plus the queues can be loooooooong!!!

Of interest is people here are a tad more slower than most other places, except Mombasa of course. I guess the chilly weather got into them. There isn’t much you can do in this weather except eat much and make babies.

As I await my admission or release, I must write about the staff, specifically the ladies because what is a long read without ass in it,right? These ladies are breathtakingly beautiful and their uniform hug them in all the right places. Come to think of it, this is a deliberate misery distraction policy employed on the patients by the hospital. Clever chaps these ones!! If am to be admitted, am sure one of these girls will be the night nurse.

The knife refused

Today I was scheduled for an operation and unlike many of my inner circle, I was excited. I was excited because it would have put an end to the undescribable pain I go through everytime the pancreas decided to act up. One of these days, I will tell you about pancreatitis.

Back to the operation, it never went through. The doctor cited things I didn’t care to know and told me, “My conscience cannot allow me to cut you open as I can’t guarantee that the operation will take away the pain”. I was deflated and pissed!! Who wanted a guarantee? Isn’t that the reason we sign to take away the burden of certainty from his hands?

I hate pills and capsules. 


Today there are two anniversaries in my calendar; three years of ‘good’ blogging (if you believe the WordPress people) and one year since i lost my second brother.


Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com!
You registered on WordPress.com 3 years ago.
Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging.

Today there are two anniversaries in my calendar; three years of ‘good’ blogging (if you believe the WordPress people) and one year since i lost my second brother. Continue reading “Anniversary”

Tudor-Docks: Tales of the Matatu

Have you ever looked at your life and wondered whether the owner of the ostrich gave you ma3someone else’s life script? Or wondered whether you jumped into the wrong queue and got a Zimbabwean life graph and then you dropped right in Kenya. These kinds of thoughts mostly occur when your life is worse than that of a C.A.R prisoner. These are the thoughts of a hoof eater, one who dreams of the liver and the fatty parts like the Most High’s sacrifice yet he/she lives on the knees and firestones of a cow. Continue reading “Tudor-Docks: Tales of the Matatu”