The Hilarious ‘Bakora’

Rarely can pain be described as hilarious. As a child sometimes Angeline, my mother, would whip me on the back, two hard ones which always came as a surprise. You can imagine the reaction; first I go low, take a hard kick to dive forward into dash at top speed. After a few steps I always took a quick look at my tormentor, a look that would inform how far I would run and if I would keep accelerating on or do the zigzag hare-kind of a run which she would not keep up with.

This was painful, terribly painful, but still someone looking from a distance would find it hilarious. By then, I would think of them as mean red necks, irreligious and wished them a fourth cross for a painful crucifixion. Ha! Ha! Ha! Today I saw a senior political figure get caned and it was hilarious. Two quick ones, just like my mothers, on the back! Ha! Ha! Ha! And from Baba’s reaction I can only imagine how painful it must have been.

Autobiographical faith statement

Nixon Gargan Mbajah

+254 726-508-709

My name is Nixon Gargan Mbajah, Kenyan by birth and aged 26. I was baptized and confirmed in Evangelical Lutheran Church in Kenya (ELCK), Arch Dioceses. My sponsors for baptism were Mr. and Mrs. Obare.

I believe in Martin Luther’s teachings and in Luther’s Small Catechism. My Christian faith is rooted on salvation by faith and grace alone. I believe that my salvation was made possible 100% by the work of Jesus Christ. I believe that I am saved by God's mercy and forgiveness and not by my works of righteousness to atone for my past or even by a personal action of deciding to follow Jesus. 

I believe that God created the universe and everything in it and that man disobeyed God's will and purposes through sin and in my rebellious and sinful condition I stand helpless and hopeless under God’s judgment.

I will never let you go

‘I am in love with you. I love you so much, I would give it all just for you. In good and bad times I promise to stand by your side with my sincere love.’ Mention these words and no one will go by without noticing, some with admiration and yet others with loath, jealousy or even get judgmental and rubbish you as a silly person.   Still, I am in love, deeply in love and it scares me. I feel I have been made soft as this love now runs through my whole system and control me like a marionette.

My old guy (grandpa) thinks any man in love is silly and girly. According to him a man should be driven by purpose, principles and objectivity, not emotions. He ascribes to the lot that believes your kinfolk (mostly an aunt) should help you choose, vet and decide on whom to tie the knot with in matrimony. And in this case the fundamental consideration is on tribe, family history and

Happy Father’s Day To You All

Certain topics are hard to cover, like a bad story they don’t carry laughter or good Any Things. This kind I always avoid and run away from with any little excuse I get my hands on. Take for instance the speed at which my laughter fades away amid a conversation whenever parents are mentioned. I hate snobs, they really irritate me, but if you are the kind of a person who will always talk of mums and dads, trust me am the worst snob you will ever meet. This however does not mean I never get caught in a situation. This Sunday will be Father’s day and there is no rat hole that will hide me from the festivities and mentions. At the church, they gave flowers to sons and daughters to give to their mother’s the other time and I am sure the same will go on this Father’s Sunday.

While conversing with my peers, out of nowhere someone usually mentions a parent, parental care or anything to do with parenting, and my happy mood uncontrollably falls to roots. It could be a football conversation, academics or even just a random talk; still someone will always find a way to press in the old folks play button. Having had a good experience with this I always try to drive the topic away out of my disliking; bring in a different story or excuse myself from the group whenever the latter doesn’t work. But when I am caged and no escape route or excuse seems available I recreate them. Yes recreate and talk of them as I would wish them alive.

In most instances I craft a rich dad with a reputable profession. I give him a high salary scale and a ward him big positions in large organization. In such illustration I talk of my dad as a young father; very

Logout and Socialize

Recently I saw a very disturbing artistic picture on the internet. I can’t actually remember the name of the artist but this illustration has remained stuck in my head like a bad memory. The art shows a young lad locked inside a dark room with the facebook logo showing on both his computer and smart phone. I can only see his face through the little shine illuminating his face from the computer and the phone. On the other side of the door are people seated and playing in a public picnic site; lovers hugging, kids running around, friends dancing to the tunes of their boom box and families sharing packed meal. The outer side of the enormous metallic door is nicely branded ‘social hub.’

On my first glance at the picture, I saw a silly artist stretching the realms of creativity. Its meaning or what the artist had in mind did not really matter and having been blessed with the pencil and the sketchpad I focus more on the artist’s curves, shades of light and color and the kind of symmetry he portrays. And sure he did a good job. After a few minutes I close the tab and go to a little of facebook, a little of twitter, my excel work sheet, back to instagram again then facebook, then the excel work sheet … etc and the cycle continued till five in the

Prayer breakfast, deceit

Today I drove my dad to a National Prayer breakfast. This is an event usually attended by dignitaries from within and abroad. Ambassadors, international business men, locally established tycoons and filthy rich politicians. Even the president himself never misses this occasion. Here he meets the people who call the shots in the economy, the people he must stoop to if he wants to lead a financially stable and peacefully country.

You might be wondering whether I am my dad’s driver. No, I am not. This is the only golden opportunity I have ever got to, to coming close to the powerful and mighty. I had to come, there is no way I could miss this so I gave his driver a technical leave. A leave I am sure he signed gushing unspoken curses.

According to the invitation card, dad’s only job was to prepare a 5 minutes prayer. The contents of which were to include a prayer for the nation, the presidency and the people in that order, a prayer for a stable economy, prosperity and peace among the people in that order. A guideline whose contents according to my interpretation were probably written by a lay person filled with wants and demands from the supernatural being. Nothing mentioning thanks giving. In all the jargon and vocabulary used how could he forget all the similes for thanksgiving? Appreciation, gratitude, approval, blessing, Asante… I wonder!

I Blame The Opposition For Terror Attacks

The mind’s liberty for thought is so amazing. Human reasoning spans way beyond all that can be spoken and in many instances it just lacks the right words to accurately illustrate its thoughts. Many bright ideas and forecasts remain suppressed for the fear of being ridiculed by those who do not see things as one see them and this does not mean that one wrong. 

Early 2013 a bold thinker came up conspiracy ‘tyranny of numbers’ and every dick and harry thought the political analyst had reached his optimal level of insanity. For the need to know more and have a clear insight into his mind sequence and thought logic many television stations and print media booked him for interviews. Others for a good course, knowledge, yet a few, short of reason presented his ‘tyranny of numbers’ for a comic gimmick. Fast forward to March 4^th, 2013 his conspiracy became a reality. Should I be a chancellor, this genius deserves an honorary degree in public-mind-reading. 

At the moment I might be defending a villain in the eyes of many, the kind who take too long to accept reality, but I am only doing this because I have just learned of another genius awaiting his crown. A silent activist, I today bring to your attention a conspiracy that has just already been rolled out and if not taken seriously will leave a permanent mark in Kenyan history. 

I say the current opposition under the patronage of America is responsible for the current insecurity in our beloved country, Kenya. Not the victim Al-shaabab. Call me all names but do not close your eyes, instead open your mind for a minute of reason as you read on. 

Things Really Change

Each and every day things change, in small bits or even total transformations. Twenty plus years ago I was a toddler and knew nothing apart from crying and giggling. Mom was my favorite person, obviously because of her breast milk and constant pampering, and then dad bought more presents and earned his space too in my heart. Today I am grown and my chin is smooth no more. I now have to shave twice a week and sure enough, it sucks. They are no more (and I haven’t said I am not complaining) and their attention is being shifted elsewhere. Weirdly, mostly to this girl who is not my kin, not my tribe and I have only known her for a while. Just because she’s got a fine ass, talks like an angel and now does all the pampering. I love my siblings too, especially the younger ones.  

In the morning I look at myself in the mirror and my six-pack and the tu-little muscles accumulation in my chest and arms makes me feel strong. The belief that I had to depend or seek permission from someone before doing anything is slowly vanishing and I find delight in independence, in mystery.

Valentine for my love, Anita

Valentine is fast approaching and in a few days’ time streets and restaurants will be donned in red.  The anticipation is unmentionable and anxiety is slowly hitting the nooks. My lady friend Anita is a stressed lady in the office today. She has not decided on which dress to wear on this very day she holds in high regard. She tells me she’s been to Woolworths, Prada and Ankarasha stores and still has not settled on one specific dress. It is not the prices that has not made her settle on any yet, she has money, it is about finding the right texture, material, the right tone of color, the length of the dress and the design it bears. Anita takes cloth line labels very seriously and considering the occasion, it has to be a popular one. It must be associated with a celebrity. A Gaga, Kardashian or at the lowest possible a Lupita’s resent wear.

Anita’s previous Valentine didn’t go so well. She was a clandestine to a legislator who for obvious reasons didn’t show up at their usual hotel after being cornered by his wife (and forced) into a matrimonial duty, as un-regrettably later explained. On that fateful night Anita was forced to sleep alone (in her valentines dress) in a wide erotically spread bed praying and hopping that her love eventually shows up. Even in the middle of the night, or at worst in the morning before she would have to be forced to walk (alone) in a red dress on her way back home. 

I Am A Creative Writer

I am a creative writer. I write about imaginary things and events, nothing real, things that only live and exist in my head. The events are not real and the characters may (sometimes) have supernatural powers like read other people minds, fly or even die and resurrect again. As a creative writer I make snakes walk and dance, I make pastors fall in love with their congregants and even make relatives give birth to geniuses out of abominable relationships. I am a creative writer (and) so everything I write about is not real and exists only in my world. This is to say you cannot make me accountable for my imaginary characters. How can you accuse me of defaming you, lying on the same bed with your arch rival or conniving to have you poisoned just because my character exhibited traits same as yours. Real characters cannot accuse imaginary ones. Imagine a dead man coming on to complain about the man who inherited his wife.

In the case number 492BC, I hereby present before you, your honor, complains of one dead man Mr. Archer. Your honor, Mr. Archer, a dead man, is a very grieved spirit today. Mr. Archer, a dead man, has in several unusual circumstances been forced to humiliation, embarrassment and (spiritual) disgrace by the (ill mannered) defendant who has today, before this honorable court admitted to sleeping with his wife and engaging in intimate sexual intercourse with his wife in their matrimonial bed, the same bed they bore their two children Faith and Solomon. Mr. Archer, a dead man, is irritated further by the fact that this has been made a norm and this (infidel) defendant wakes up in the mid morning sun and greets his neighbors jovially instead sneaking unnoticed, like normal adulterers do. 

Ado’s Chalice of Fetus and Rotting Placenta

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

“God bless you, my child. Our God is a merciful God. Confess and it shall be well with you for the holly book says ‘for we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

“Aaah, aah, aah, … aaaah, aah, aah, ah,” he started to cry bitterly. 

“My child, you cannot keep crying like this. Our good Lord have heard your pain and believe me, he has forgiven your sins already.”

He cried some more. His wails were low but long. I could tell how hurt and regretful his soul was. In my mind I wondered what this poor child had done. Decently clad young man, well shaved and gentle in his steps, as I watched him enter the confession booth. His unusual ways amazed me. I must confess, among the people who come into this little booth, his ways were totally unusual.

2013, Resolution 2014

I am thinking through my New Year resolutions to limit myself to only the realistic ones. Last year I had quit a list and am happy a larger percentage came to fruition. At the start of 2013 I had a resolve to enroll for a postgraduate study and I did. Though I should have finished the classes by now, I am happy I made the effort to start and hopefully I will see it to completion by the end of this New Year, 2014.

It was my resolve to live a responsible and respectful life and to the best of my knowledge, this I did 75%. I was flexible to others opinions and aspirations, I gave way to let others too have a chance in places I wanted to be the only one and even compromised my own comfort for others. I supported my younger siblings in varied ways and even helped strangers at times of need all in the spirit of being like a ‘Good Samaritan’.

At the start of 2013 I aspired to improve on myself independence and I think I did make recognizable strides. Improving my brain power through studies, working hard towards financial security and self protection against physical aggression and mental abuse were my greatest pillars.