We’d then ‘borrow’ the rigor-mortised Form 1s trousers, and turn them into pipes. Don a pair of sharp-shooters, stuff attitude in the pockets and we were literally walking on air.
It’s at Mama Jeni’s that Maimuna is reborn and later own meets the real Kabi wa Jesus, a decent and down-to-earth man, whose marriage brokers a BBI handshake between Bi. Farashuu and Bw. Maksuudi. Ah, love.
I’m in a sticky wicket—I’m having the devil’s cocktail: a concoction that has everything—kitunguu, kitunguu saumu, honey, ginger, nails, the economy, snake ears. Everything.
You say okay, you can survive this. You remember Jehovah Wanyonyi, Nabongo Mumia and Moses Wetangula. You recall, no, Wetangula cannot be considered a Luhya leader. But his wives can. Too soon?
Is it because Jupiter is in retrograde and he is a Libra star rising? Can someone read me this hombre’s tarot cards! This is an affront to my Luhya masculinity, I hiss.
Oh, Lord. As you drink, Ferre Gola is singing "Kamasutra" right out of that glass, and believe me, he can sing.
This man walked in and I felt a tectonic shift. It’s like how when Jesus walked into Jerusalem and everyone started dancing Jerusalema.
“Baby girl, nimesoma kitabu yote ya Numbers but sijawahi ona number yako..”
Dating a nurse is like asking a Catholic for a sermon. You don’t know what you’ll get. Have you noticed how unbothered Catholics are? You need an Omosh-like confidence to date a Catholic.
Honesty matters. It’s the bedrock of every relationship—when you are not making each others beds rock.