CIRCUMCISION: CULTURE, CHURCH & GANGS

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Circumcision is one of the most revered cultural practices in my community. It is a mark of transformation and liberation, if you may. Liberation from childhood manners and anything that demeans boyish attributes. The physical mark that is painfully entrenched to the young man is a gate-pass to the lawns of adulthood. In a nutshell, it’s an achievement that serves as a height of brevity.

You see, this stage is such a big deal as ordinarily, welcomes the boys to the corridors of being the community’s pillars, so to speak. But not only does it qualify them as young men but more pertinently, bequeaths one with a whole wealth of social significants, for instance, being full members of the society including, equipping them with a hefty list of responsibilities.

While that is easier said than done especially in recent times when good morals have taken a heavy beating, we can’t wish away such an important cultural activity. However, the act is not cast in stone in that it automatically turns one into a responsible and fully-fledged young man. Ideally, it should be supported by frequent follow-up mentorship forums just to mould the young men to fairly principled youths who can’t easily be washed away by the evil millennial torrents.

At this juncture, it’s important to appreciate that there are organized men associations out there that are working tirelessly hard to foster good cultural practices that remain significant to the community. Of importance is to note that they are coming in handy to support the negated boy child who has periodically suffered at the expense of other emotive issues. For the last 5 years or so, they’ve strived to fill the void that the boy child has been subjected into overtime, by mentoring the boys and serving as credible role models. With the absence of credible role models for boys and young men to identify with, has in itself worked as a destruction to these generations.

That said, there has been controversy triggered by the role the church is playing as far as circumcision of boys is concerned. Now, to avoid being buried in the sensation, we should ask ourselves, who is supposed to circumcise the boy or rather put it differently; who is supposed to play the central role in the initiation stage of boys?

Tough as it may, traditionally, it was conducted by the elders. Why it was an elders-affair-only was for a very simple reason. They were and still are the cultural gatekeepers. No other institution or individual can challenge their authority as far as cultural knowledge is concerned. Nevertheless, with the global advancements revolutionizing the way of doing stuff, many African cultures risk being overridden and completely forgotten, if that hasn’t happened already. In the last 3-5 decades or so, elders in many communities got bypassed in the whole business of circumcision. Many families developed a preference for medical practitioners just to ensure hygiene was observed and that qualified personnel handled their sons. Actually, the best word to use is, Professionals. Yes, pun intended!

As time moved, so was religion taking root in the African context. And as you’d guess, the church jumped right in as the cookie crumbled. While this transpired, many elders outfits resulted to either being mum or outnumbered. They were seen as social outcasts and their beliefs considered unbecoming. But this didn’t erase their disquiet or tilt their views. Luckily, in less than a decade ago, tables turned. Quietly, the quest from middle-aged men yearning to become members of elders’ associations started gaining momentum. Some sections of the media started embracing these outfits too and inviting them on air.

And as if that was the lucking springboard, these cultural outfits seem not to look behind but to mop out every young man worth his salt to join them. And it’s a good thing. I will tell you why:

It’s only in these outfits that one comprehensively gets to learn about virtually anything there is to learn in a culture. At least in my community, they’ve proved to be extremely resourceful to mentor the boy child, instill values that were lacking before, pass unlimited cultural knowledge to the young men and serve as a center to diagnose a community’s challenges and propose solutions. This goes without mentioning the unmeasurable avenue of networking for the boy child and rewarding one with a sense of identity.

While this has been unfolding, it hasn’t sat well with the church. Men of the cloth have not only bashed the elders at least in some quarters but dared their male members to join such outfits. For the record, the Presbyterian Church of East Africa(PCEA) which is one of the most populous religions in this country(Kenya) advised its members to keep off a Gikuyu cultural practice referred to as Mburi cia Kiama which involves slaughtering of goats and relaying cultural studies to Agikuyu men. The elders in return, have not taken the accusations lying low. They’ve termed the ban as unwarranted and misguided since they are not in the business of fighting religion.

It is such sharp division between the church and cultural organizations that has yet again raised the lid on who should administer the circumcision act. While the elders believe they are the chief custodians of a community’s cultural resource bank, the church is riding on contemporary realities and the rule of Christianity. But it is in the wake of such quagmire that saw a section of residents of Murang’a protest due to a particular church having outsourced a seemingly fake doctor to oversee the botched circumcision act of male boys. The victims were painfully compelled to undergo the act again, this time by the elders.

One might hypothetically ask if these elders have any background in medical know-how? The answer would be; these cultural organisations have men from all walks of life and in different occupations including highly regarded doctors in this country.

That aside, more seem to be rocking this enviable stage of a man, as criminal gangs have taken upon themselves to radicalize the young boys soon after they face the knife. Dozens if not more victims have lost their lives in the recent past out of falling out with these villains and many more left for the dead having been grossly maimed. These gangs are loosely woven militias trying to fill a void of who should pass on the cultural knowledge to the young men.

The boy child is at a crossroad – To keep up with the church as it figures out how to go about the heavily important cultural act or warm up to the elders for the much-needed blessings and acquisition of knowledge. While these two institutions can have their interests harmonized, a section of the church fraternity does not seem to appreciate the role culture plays in mankind’s life. As that should be addressed, so should the criminal gangs radicalizing and misleading the youths be completely mopped out, for the safety of our young men.

In other words, the boy child has a lot of battles to win over or risk perishing in unchartered world that our forefathers sacrificed lives to safeguard!

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LATE 80’S KIDS

I don’t know what stood out in your childhood, nevertheless, as you ponder about it, I’m just about to sound old and dilapidated, okay, to some of you. Well, never mind, I’m neither that young. I’m a soul that struggles to be identified as a millennial. But technically I’m not one in as much as google defines it as someone who becomes of age in the 21st century. Leaves me to wonder; I’m I in the same category of life with those sensual kids that rock the likes of Ten Over Ten show dressed like they’re attending a swimming competition? Shudder not! I will let them be.

I tell you what, my elder sister Liz has loyally been listening to The Sundowner show on KBC English Service for decades now. She puzzles me as to how she doesn’t get over it and probably grow legs to something more contemporary. Speaking of contemporary music, I really wonder if it’ll end up passing the test of time. There was something magical about 90’s and early 2000’s music. Anyway, back to Liz; to measure her degree of obsession with the Show – she can easily kill (not literally though) to be at home by 6 pm to tune in to the nostalgic programme regularly hosted by Catherine Ndonye and a few other awesome bunch of presenters.

That said, most of us fondly recall the late Nzau Kalulu’s (Rest in internal peace sir) baritone voice when he hosted the Show decades ago. It was phenomenal. Of course, we have to give up for Ndonye for unshyly flying the Sundowner flag ever high for as far as I can remember. In retrospect, the late 80’s kids should forever epitomize the beauty of growing up listening to such sensational presenters?

The Beat Time was the mother of all popular music, then hosted by the talented John Karani and Charity Karimi. You see, many will reckon that John Karani stands a chance to be ranked higher than the likes of Maina Kageni as the best radio presenter of all times. This was one guy who had quite an admirable chemistry with radio not to mention the massive following pre-social media era. If you were born in late 80’s or earlier, you must have waited for his other show Saturday Night Show, to jot down lyrics of popular hits which he used to share since there was hardly any internet then to google lyrics. Groove Time hosted every Saturday morning was another sought-after Show that entailed live-call voting for popular music to grace his coveted weekly chart. Jeff Mwangemi alias Crucial Mundu who hosted Yours For The Askin’ every Wednesday night, was similarly dribbling his talent on the radio effortlessly.

I was privileged then to always obtain a copy of the Sunday Nation. It was priced at sh.40/- which would mean saving for the rest of the week to at least go through Wahome Mutahi’s Whispers column, peruse through the Lifestyle edition, crack my ribs with Head on Corrision by KJ and finally check on the featured artist and song lyrics. One would then cut off the song lyrics and stick them on a collection book that was a must-have for every late 80’s kid. Speaking of which, I still hold beef with my brother for misplacing my 300-page musical album book that took me years to compile and form my identity as a teenager.

But before all these were vintage record players, radio cassettes and walk-man gadgets. Every home worth its name had to own a cassette player and loyally buy musical albums. Interestingly, one used to rewind the music using a biro if your dad didn’t own a classical JVC radio or worst case scenario, a Sanyo one. There was no piracy then neither were there avenues to download music. Walk-mans were spotted with rich kids which instead of playing the cassette in the family radio, one would insert the cassette in the gadget and listen using mini-size headphones.

Apart from great music, late 80’s kids must have come across landline phones that one would queue like they do in some banking halls. I remember accompanying my dad on a number of occasions to make those magical calls. And they came with no much privacy apart from confining oneself in the tiny booth, making peace with the would-be callers comfortably eavesdropping your conversation besides having to deal with the wrath of their impatience if you hang in there longer than expected.

Advancements came through in early 2000’s when Simu ya Jamii was launched. At least with Simu ya Jamii, there was no embarrassment of running out of cash as it was post billed and not limited to functioning solely on coins. It was extremely convenient for students who didn’t enjoy the luxury of owning mobile phones then. These digital calling booths were as common as mpesa shops but that quickly changed in a couple of years courtesy of influx of affordable mobile phones.

With mobile phones came the puzzle of scratch cards going for as high as sh.300/-. That was the cheapest for Kencell. Funny enough, the card was slightly bigger than a standard ATM card. This was also the time when calls were classified between peak and off-peak time. Dear 90’s millennials, during our time we used to wait up to 5pm to make calls that cost a whooping sh.10/- per minute. That alone melted our hearts. I mean, it was quite affordable. Michael Joseph, the then Safaricom head honcho, termed Kenyans as quite bizarre for having peculiar calling habits.

As telecommunication industry was leapfrogging, social media was miles ahead. Yahoo was one of the biggest powerhouse in the web services. I will not lie to you that I used Hotmail. You remember 2go social site? It was a fast paced messaging app that almost overtook Facebook until it went under.

But far before that bravado was well baked Kenya football. KFF was a body that stood tall and ran on systems. Talent was tapped all the way from the grassroots. At barely 8 or so years I’d name the entire Harambee stars squad. Don’t get twisted, not English Football but local football. From the tall lad who wired the team Musa Otieno, to the light-skinned midfielder Titus Mulama, to the dribbler John ‘Mo’ Muiruri, to the likes of Tom Juma, Mike Okoth, keeper Francis Onyiso, six feet center-back Joseph Shikokoti and many more, Kenyan football was a piece of gem to marvel for. Interestingly, in the absence of TV screens then, I’d listen via my pocket radio while grazing my dad’s livestock as the dynamic duo composed of Jack Oyo Sylvester and Ali Salim Manga revolutionized football broadcasting.

And that’s when you realise you’re growing old, by holding on to your childhood memories that seem to be bombarded and faintly buried each passing day by the so-called conventional realities. That said, Kageshi just reminded me my birthday is a few hours from now! Can I just deal with that? Thank you Andreaders.

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PLATTE-LAND 020: ENTANGLEMENT

Sly and Eunetta love relationship was a secret that was highly guarded leaving little chance if any, to a chosen few. This included Sly’s ex Chris, Shiku and Njagi. It brew in High school right from Form 1 as they shared the same cubicle. They got introduced to it by a Form 3 student who took them as their godmother as it was part of the school’s culture to ensure the Form 1s had someone who would orient them and make them have a soft landing in the institution. Unknown to them, their godmother was a lesbian and as fate would have it, they got acquainted with the unholy fellowship which to date seems not to have lasted its full longevity.

It was next to rare to notice their tight-lipped affair since they toyed with harboring boyfriends from other schools just like any typical teenage girl and would pen down love letters and dispatch them occasionally to the said poor lads. They’d casually mingle with these blokes if not getting new catches during funkies and in the course of inter-school events. The school was rather rampant with lesbianism and had kept alive this infamous tradition for decades now. The school management had miserably failed to tame it, much to its thriving. In fact, at one point one of the school watchmen was found dead on an early morning in what the community around believed he had been allegedly raped by the highly charged girls the previous night, until he passed on.

Sly and Eunetta pursued divergent directions after high school but still kept in touch. The latter would study at Mt.Thondio University coincidentally where Shiku is currently based while Sly joined Matiba University. As Eunetta developed an interest in Software Engineering, Sly was contented with Computer Science though very keen on Journalism. They would later revisit their relationship whenever the dry spell bustle seemed unbearable, though life had weakened their chemistry to a large extent. This had been occasioned by new friends who had infiltrated their lives coupled with a credible turnover of boyfriends which ostensibly came with its fair share of distractions if not ripple effects. Incidentally, at one time Chris (Sly’s Ex) stumbled on the two kissing and cuddling in his house, but their strong bond saved their relationship even though the ugly memories would resurface later when Sly dumped Chris.

From the look of things, Eunetta was in a struggle of her own. She was a no ordinary bisexual. Strangely, she had no particular taste of men. Suffice is to say, she dated any man that she lusted for. Rich or broke, young to old, married or otherwise, bad boys to mama’s boys, from tall to midgets, politicians to technocrats, retirees to pastors, name them. She had an album of untold experiences and bizarre escapades. Money aside, she fantasized feeding her curiosity in bedding any man that seemed elusive. She chased men rather in a sophisticated way until at some point it occurred to her that she could perhaps be battling a medical problem. She didn’t go beyond getting a medical interpretation regarding her queer habits. It remained just a speculation buried in her witty passions far away from Sly’s scrutiny.

On the hand, she had a weighty collection of women she had slept with, too. From the well rounded to the models like. Besides, she created time for her trophy girl, Sly. Speaking of Sly, she was in her own battle zone as well. She tolerated Eunetta for being unequivocally loyal and a lesser evil so to speak but more interestingly toyed with Njagi for far too long. It was no more a secret that Njagi had a clear crush on Sly which she contended with too well while playing along though cautiously. In return, she had successfully converted him to assume the position of managing her erratic emotional struggles. Before the break up with her ex, it didn’t escape Chris’s attention as occasionally he would provoke explanations of the so called platonic friendship whose answers barely scratched the surface as Sly would wrestle to justify.

But more pertinently, Sly seemed to be in a catch 22. She was dealing with a stubborn lecturer who had aided her in the footings of her journalism breakthrough which came at a cost of him intimating for sexual favours from her. When his advances seemed to be falling on a hard surface he resulted to go cannibal.

***

After they were done with the class, Sly received a text message from Mr.Mwangi urging her to pass by the staff room briefly as she made her way home. Her instincts advised her to request Njagi to wait for her at the exit door in the lower floor. It was a few minutes shy of 9 pm. Njagi gladly waited for her as he cultivated a laid-back tet a tet with Hamisi – a security guard and one of his campus buddies. Their friendship had been hatched at the school gym where both of them were active members. They’d tussle on lifting the weights and doing the workouts.

10 minutes or so in the waiting, Njagi grew weary. He decided to take an elevator to the staff room based on 3rd floor to find out why Sly had taken a century-long holed up with a lustful mwalimu. As he made his way he met with Sly’s desperate voice pleading for help. His adrenaline jumped in, and in a split of a second, he banged the door only to meet Sly lying on the floor, her dress slit torn and way above the upper legs, sandwiched by Mr.Mwangi’s legs who in the meantime had been unfastening his belt.

To be continued…

Previously on Platte-land series: After-Party

Sadly Season 2 of Platte-Land series is done and dusted. Watch out for Season 3 sooner or later.

Photo credit: youthvillage.co.za

PLATTE-LAND 019 – AFTER PARTY

Photo credit: kampusville.com

After a successful MUST Zone inaugural anniversary celebrations, the after party went down at the city’s nerve center of entertainment joints – Westlands. It was an invite-only affair with the Journalism Club members forming the biggest section of the attendants towing along their friends while Matiba University usual suspects otherwise known as influencers would also be spotted.

Njagi dragged along Shiku, while Sly invited Eunetta, her seemingly close friend. Sly was putting a brave face after undergoing a rough patch of late, especially after breaking up with Chris. Be it as it may, there was much to celebrate on the other hand, which strangely, nature didn’t allow. For starter’s sake, she had broken some personal glass ceilings; – She had landed a top job at Syokimau FM having been confirmed on the lucrative position of the morning show radio host. MUST Zone was also doing very well in the universities arena and in fact, had a very phenomenal anniversary earlier in the day.

When Shiku and Njagi settled on their spot, they had a lot to discuss. They were meeting for the first time after the backdrop of their last encounter in Shiku’s well-furnished apartment. One thing had led to the other and before they knew it, they slid into the world of intimacy, riding on alcohol influence. Hence the reason, today’s encounter was a lukewarm one to both of them for simply provoking to resuscitate what went down on that night.

“I didn’t know you are that good”

“You lured me into it Shiku. You take the blame.”

“I think it’s too late. Anyway, how are you.”

“I’m fine…You realize things seem to be rolling pretty fast.”

“What things?”

“You know I’m worried of Sly”

“Oooh Lord. To this extent, I accept and move-on on your grave obsession with her.”

“Not really, I’m just concerned.”

“You’re lying with a straight face Njagi.”

“I will only admit it to you that I love her, but that’s between us.”

“The heart wants what it wants. Mapenzi ni kikohozi brathee, haifichiki!”

“Somebody just friend-zoned me. Brathee???”

“You know where we’ve come from Njagi….tangu siku za Daudi Kabaka”

“Let’s be serious for once.”

“Talk to me dear.”

“Look at who accompanied her!”

“She looks familiar. We were in the same high school. Her name is Eunetta.”

“Wait….Eunetta. That’s rings a bell!!”

“You know her?”

“I eavesdropped when they were breaking up with Chris. Her name was thrown around.”

“I don’t get it. All I know is that she was a lele.”

“You mean a lesbian?”

She nods in the affirmative.

“I overheard Chris talking of how he met them making out.”

“You kidding me. They were making out?”

“Apparently.”

“They were really tight back then in high school. I’m shocked they are still together carrying on with their feminine affair.”

***

Meanwhile, Sly and Eunetta seemed to be having the best of their time at a far table taking their Heineken drinks smoothly.

“I tell you what, that lecturer dancing over there wants me to get into an affair with him.”

“Is that a big deal Sly?”

“Goodness sake, he is twice my age, married and certainly wouldn’t ever rattle my ovaries.”

“Don’t be too sure hunny, these stuff happen.”

“I had a painful break up but I’m not desperate for a man. I’m enjoying every bit of my singlehood.”

“You don’t envy free drinks and expensive lunch dates in high-end hotels and trips to Zanzibar,…Wait, you wouldn’t be interested in his money and a guaranteed first class honour when you graduate?”

“Babe, there is nothing for free in this world. Worse of it, from men.”

“Just for sleeping with you, it’s not like it will stick on your forehead for everyone to notice?”

“You don’t understand it Eunetta, sleeping with a married man is despicable. My dear, I hope you’ve not crossed that line in pursuit for money. It’s evil.”

“Let’s leave that for another day.”

“Anyway, he is such a bother.”

“You should make him aware that you have me to take care of your bedroom matters.”

“You can say that again.”

They laugh away as they dangle their glasses for a cheer. Mr. Mwangi walks over to Sly as Eunetta dashes to the ballroom.

“Mwalimu, you’re such an epic dancer!”

“I used to be an excellent one when I was your age.”

“You must have frequented many bashes and discotheques at your youthful age.”

“You’re right, I attended so many.”

“So how is your family doing?”

“They are well, the kids are back to school though.”

“I hope you reconciled with your wife after that fateful day.”

“Yes we did and we had many more arguments subsequently, as usual.”

“As usual?”

“Sly, when you get married you’ll understand why.”

“But marriage is how the two of you fuse it. Isn’t it?”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“So, how do you cope?”

“By being distracted by women like you.”

“Mwalimu, you sound like you’re objectifying me.”

“You’re too sensitive dear!”

“I think I’m just disturbed by your guts.”

“Speaking of guts, did you make up your mind?”

“About?”

“The North Coast trip.”

“Mr. Mwangi, today is a very special day to my life. Please don’t ruin it.”

“I’m sorry for always being misunderstood by you.”

“I’m offended by people who don’t take no for answer.”

Eunetta interrupts…

“Hi sir?”

“Hi”

“Eunetta, meet my lecturer Mr. Mwangi”…”Sir, this is my lovely doll, Eunetta.”

“Pleasure, I got to leave. Take care girls.”

“Don’t you worry Mwalimu, I’m in a safe company as you can see.”

Sly and Eunetta laughter build gradually and finally fill the room.

 

Previously on Platte-Land Anniversary

The series continues next week…

PLATTE-LAND 018: ANNIVERSARY

Time had rolled off in such a fast pace. The journalism club members were busy preparing for the maiden anniversary of the school mag since the celebrated launch. Everyone was upbeat and excited by the niche the mag had curved for itself. Blue chip corporate firms were jostling for the elusive space in the premier millennials’ magazine. From the giants in the telecommunication industry to multinational brands; the likes of Safaricom and Samsung, it was bliss and glow to the team behind the mag. Tidy monies were rocking their accounts so consistently stealing an eye from the campus V.C who as a result gladly accepted to honour the invitation of being the Chief Guest during the celebrations earmarked to take place, on the subsequent weekend.

Sly had worked on her presentation the entire week. Being the chair-lady of the Journalism club and the ingenious brains behind the mag, it was only well deserving for her to have a slot to talk about the journey the magazine had covered. She had like 6 drafts with Abigail her co-chair helping in editing her final draft.

The magazine had a special pullout to acknowledge the season it came to birth. A pictorial album was being crafted as well as a detailed editorial script summarizing its maiden year it had been in circulation. Many ads had also been lined up as part of the marketing gimmick to tap the million dollar youthful section of the economy.

***

Ladies and gentlemen, to start with, I wish to extend my gratitude to each and everyone of you present in this room, for resolving to come and witness this momentous day of our institution. As you all know, 12 months ago Must Zone magazine came to the fore. You can all bear me witness, it has been a roller-coaster and marathon race to the journalism club and all the stakeholders for having made my dream come true. The magazine has leapfrogged and gained confidence over time but more importantly won the hearts of legions of comrades.

Comrades yeeeh

Comrades aaaah

We’ve sharpened our skills in producing competitive work and in return attracted many partners who in tandem have moulded long-term partnerships. Well, it started as an idea in my mind and were it not for each one of you who believed in it and the school management who walked the talk of sponsoring it, certainly, we wouldn’t be in this room, today.

Of importance to all of us is to appreciate MUST Zone has become a household name and such a coveted brand besides emerging as a product of benchmarking by other institutions of higher learning in and around East Africa. Mt.Thondio University, Ndunduri University, Gathigiriri Teachers College, Wiitemere School of Applied Sciences, just to name a few have not only shown interest in emulating this noble idea but have manifested high appreciation for the level of investment and the kind branding our school has achieved through MUST Zone.

We have also tapped on the amazing talent our school has got and exposed it to a bigger audience for nurturing. For instance, we have student-writers publishing articles in our columns in a very regular sequence. Dr. Kiogothe to be more specific, has been running a fiction series that I’m told is on the verge of closing in a deal with one of the top daily newspaper – Syokimau Weekend. Isn’t that unprecedented?

Last and not least, I’d like to exude my indebted regards to our Dean of Students Mr. Mwangi for believing in our idea even when it had little to prove. He went ahead to pitch it to the school management who in return dared to give us a chance. On behalf of the journalism club, we can’t thank you enough Mr. Mwangi.

Mr. Mwangi stood up and briefly waved to the crowd, though shyly.

It’s now my humble opportunity to invite our V.C to give his speech.

***

The V.C having been impressed by the noble idea of MUST Zone school magazine made a surprise declaration that all current members of the Journalism Club who were actively involved in publishing the mag would earn a competitive salary starting immediately. But more importantly, he promised to steer a team that would ensure most journalism club members in MUST University got absorbed by the leading media houses the likes of; Syokimau Media Group, Igwa Miti Television Network, Kiawara Broadcasters & Kiandutu TV. He also hailed praise to Sly for landing the post of Syokimau Morning show presenter.

Mr. Mwangi, the dean of students would later have a word with his love-struck student, Sly, at the sidelines of the anniversary itinerary.

“Congratulations, you looked very confident on stage.”

“I owe it to you. You believed in my idea.”

“Just the other day, it’s now a year gone.”

“Sure, will you be joining us for the after-party?”

“You didn’t invite me plus still haven’t received your feedback on our trip to North Coast.”

“Is it payback time Mr. Mwangi?”

“Not really, is only that you misunderstood me during our date.”

“Can I make it clear to you that, that was not a date. At least not with my approval. Secondly, it sits awkwardly with me to have you develop feelings to a student who holds you in high regard.”

” It’s just a casual arrangement. Don’t read too much.”

“I’m disturbed Mwalimu by your pestering. Sorry if I sound offensive.”

“Anyway, let’s meet at the After Party.”

“Fine, if you say so.”

“By the way, you’re doing an incredible work at Syokimau Fm.”

Sly’s face melted from a frown to an easy face.

“So, you listen to my show? How do I sound on radio?”

“A voice that one would wish to listen on and on. You were made for the radio!”

“You can say that again.”

“See you later.”

Photo credit: Ted Talks

Previously on Platte-land series Internship

Platte-land continues next Monday…

PLATTE-LAND 017: INTERNSHIP

3…2…1 mic on, go…on air! Ladies and gentlemen, this is your main girl Sly Wangari and you’re tuned in to the dopest of contemporary radio stations – Syokimau FM where breathtaking music plays round the clock. I will be your host for a couple of months for the Morning Drive show, ensuring I keep you in tabs with the traffic flow and making your experience of reporting to work, worthwhile.

DJ Fresh Boy how’re you doing this morning?

Can’t complain, looking very lovely yourself.

Oooooh, thank you. You’re also dressed like you are heading somewhere fancy after this show?

Not really. Just representing the streets. You know how we do it!

Great, so what’s on your playlist today?

Some great vibes coming up shortly. Kendrick Lemar, Drake, Dj Khalid, and a bunch of East Africa club bangers and all your favourite urban music. We have some new tracks too. I hear you’ve lined up a heated conversation? Trying to stifle a grin.

For sure, don’t you touch that dial. Speaking of heated conversations, dear listeners we wanna hear from you, what’s your take regarding bisexual people? Would you date them? Are you one of them? Is there a big deal to it? Talk to us. By now you know the digits to call us from!….Dj Fresh Boy give us some music.

Just a quick one Sly

Yes, Fresh Boy

Who are bisexuals?

Ooh, sorry. A simple definition of bisexuals are people sexually attracted to both men and women.

Now you know. Great music plays from the background.

*

Caller1: Hello

Sly: Syokimau FM, good morning! Who is on the line?

Caller1: My name is Benjamin calling from Nairobi.

Sly: Yes Benjamin, what’s your take on bisexuals?

Caller1: I would never date a bisexual. It’s ungodly and unAfrican to start with. How’d the relationship work if my woman is charmed by women the same way a man is aroused?

Sly: So your take is a no! no!

Caller 1: Bisexuals have no place in our society. It’s evil.

Caller 2: Good morning I’m loving your show.

Sly: Thank you so much, what’s your name and where are you calling from?

Caller 2: My name is Sheila from Matiba University.

Sly: Shout out to MUST! What’s your take dear, on our topic of discussion.

Caller 2: I was recruited to be a bisexual in high school. Lesbianism was very rampant in our school and since it was a girls’ boarding school, many students naturally got attracted to each other. It was no big deal spotting two girls sharing a bed. Of course, it was such a gross misconduct when one got nabbed, but it still happened. It’s a culture we found in the school and was entrenched in us right from Form 1.

Sly: Sighs! So, Sheila, you saying even after completing your studies you were unable to grow over the habit? And secondly, does your family or close friends know about this?

Caller 2: I was barely 14 and naive. I got so hooked to it until the habit made peace with my life. In fact, sleeping with another lady is so casual to me. Many of my high school friends still do it to date. It starts with kissing then the rest is history. None of my family members are aware of it, neither does my boyfriend. He works in a distant town which makes it easier for me to bring my girlfriends to the house without him smelling trouble.

Sly: Would you wish to go back to your other life?

Caller 2: Of course I wish I’d unlearn this vice but I don’t know how to. My body is so weak for such a brave decision.

Sly: Don’t you think probably when you get married it will just be a matter of time before your hubby suspects you or finds you pants down?

Caller 2: There is that risk, but what to do? I live a day at a time.

*

Summing up on this topic, Fresh Boy let’s hear your opinion.

Sly, where do I begin? Reading comments on our social media pages and listening to many young callers, paint a worrying trend. You realize our generation is headed to the dogs. Bisexual has been made to sound cool and acceptable. Look at what is happening in clubs and house parties nowadays. I hear we have exclusive gay and lesbian clubs. We’ve casualized everything.

Sly…

I hear you, sounding very deep today hahaha! My view would be simple. School authorities should be hands-on in ensuring detrimental habits aren’t encouraged. Take for a case of Sheila who called in alluding she was recruited while in Form 1. Parents too should do more in getting closer to their adolescence kids and befriending them. It’s only through this that some of these habits can be neutralized. To the adults; nothing can’t be unlearned with resolve and support from family and friends.

***

Sly had earned herself a spot at arguably one of the most sort after radio stations by the millennials, Syokimau FM. She took up the challenge to try her luck for the internship position and a month after, her co-host got pouched by a rival media house. Her new bosses well impressed by her radio vocals put her on the hot seat for a couple of days on an acting capacity which ostensibly ran to some weeks before her position got confirmed.

The experience was overwhelming. Who’d have thought that she’d fill the shoes of such a competitive radio show – The Morning Drive. She was now waking up at 4 am to get to the office by 5 am, research on the topic of discussion, meet with her seniors which included the Program Director, Producer, and the Production set. She’d also peruse the papers in search of the trending news relevant to the youths, as well as learning the ropes of working under pressure in such a dynamic industry.

Her show aired for 4 hours every weekday, thereafter, she’d take a 2-hour break before switching roles at midday to fill in the role of an Assistant Sports Editor. In the afternoon, she’d work for two more hours researching on the next day’s morning show. It was such a tight schedule which came with tremendous experience and a handsome pay. She had discontinued her day tutorials and would attend her classes in the evening.

Image credit: durban.getitonline.co.za

Previously on Platte-land series: Tryst

Platte-land continues next Monday…

PLATTE-LAND 016: TRYST

They had numerously stumbled on each other, with the Dean of Students always imploring on her of their date especially after the incredible idea of the school mag. Speaking of which, the mag had become so popular that the Vice Chancellor of Matiba University requested for an audience with the brains behind it. Sly was taken by surprise besides being overwhelmed by the level of support her idea had gathered. The journalism club had been a buzz of activities ever since the launch, with many products finding their way in to the mag. The uptake had been indeed, fulfilling. The margins had also been growing steadily leaving the future with no choice but to be kinder.

Sly was meeting Mr.Mwangi at the backdrop of a painful break up with her ex – Chris, after she got wind of him cheating on her. It was heartbreaking and unbelievable. She chose to follow the high and unpopular route of not forgiving him and denying him any second chance to redeem himself. She rather chose to forge on, in the uncharted waters of single hood as life unfolded. It could be a blessing in disguise for her to repair the broken pieces in her life.

Mr. Mwangi would pick her at Adams Arcade and they’d settle on a getaway off Ngong road.

It was in one of those scenic hideouts with a flower-littered road tucked in between a forest that also domesticated legions of playful monkeys and chirping birds. Sly had never been to such a private engagement with any of her lecturer(s) before. But unlike her, many campus ladies had found themselves toying with the idea of befriending and firing up affairs with their lecturers all for good grades and enviable lifestyles. Scores of ladies found themselves wadding in love-flings hatched from infamous locations such as this.

So, why would Sly give Mr. Mwangi that kind of privilege to buy her lunch in a getaway frequented by people in three-piece love affairs? Of people shy of basking at the scrutiny of the public eye? Was she naive not even to inform her folks or Njagi that she was off to a lunch date, just in case? You know sh** happens! Had Mr. Mwangi been all innocent or had he mastered the tricks to woe Sly?

***

“Have you been here before?”

“Ooh no. Looks vintage like!”

“Yea, with a heritage to uphold.”

“Seems like it. It’s peaceful and equally captivating.”

“You didn’t seem to be very keen on the date though.”

“Date!!!”

“Yea our lunch date.”

Sly faked a choke from the garlic and lemon fish curry they were having.

“By the way, the meal is too awesome. I’m impressed by how they’ve garnished the coriander leaves.” Dodging his question.

“My pleasure.”

“So, Mwalimu, what was the essence of the so called date?”

“Aah, could you refer me as just Mwangi.”

“That will definitely sound awkward.” Making a sarcastic laugh.

“Why?”

“I can’t see myself referring you as Mwangi!”

“Well you just did.” He giggled turning away from Sly’s impressive gaze.

“Why would you encourage me to do so. You’re still my lecturer. And a senior one for crying out loud.”

“I’m not denying that. But this is a different arrangement altogether. I have a life out there, you know.”

Sly nodded as she awaited more from Mr. Mwangi’s bubble.

“Who doesn’t like having a good time with friends?” Making a more pronounced smile that warranted Sly to notice a gap that once housed one of his molar teeth.

“So, where is this headed Mwangi? Gosh, sorry. Mr. Mwangi.”

“Very good.” He ordered for some white wine.

Amid the laughters and long talks, Sly opened up to Mr. Mwangi about her bruising break up. She was surprised by how attentive he portrayed himself to be. He was such an incredible listener. He never interjected, nor blinked through the story. He nodded when called upon to, made faces when expected, while his eye contact remain drawn to her. That surprised Sly and in essence drew some positive attributes about him.

He sympathized with her story.

“Was he the first boyfriend you ever hand?”

“Mmmmh….you could say so.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

She crossed one leg to the other, took a deep breathe and adjusted her watch. “Okay, let me put it differently – it was the first serious relationship I have had so far.”

“The rest were?”

“The usual flings that die before they start.”

“Hahahaha. Is the guy who accompanied you to my office the one who hurt your heart?”

“Oh my goodness.” She walked to the ladies laughing loudly.

5 minutes later…

She found him on phone speaking to a female voice whom Sly deciphered, was his wife demanding to know where he was. She spoke with utter disgust and venom.

“That’s my nagging wife.”

“Nagging.”

“She is always venting and complaining of something.”

Sly sighed off. “You should make time for her. Perhaps she thinks you’re denying her attention.”

“But I’m always busy. I have no time to stay indoors and supply attention.”

“You see, that’s where you men go wrong. In the beginning you’re always very romantic and available, wait until the dust settles.”

Mr. Mwangi responded to an itch on his ever bushy beards. “I’ve got to provide for them. I can’t just stay there pampering her. How will I create wealth if I don’t whip my a** and get connected to the right people in this town?”

“But you called me for a date at the expense of your family!”

“I felt obliged to appreciate your brilliance.”

“Are you sure there was nothing more?”

“I have always been carried away by your charm right from the day you joined our institution. I wish we became more closer, perhaps even flying to the coast for a weekend, you know! Is that much to ask from such a dazzling woman like you?”

“But I’m your student and you are very much married. In fact, your wife deserves that trip more than I will ever do.” Sly was beginning to feel offended and intruded.

“Just a weekend.”

“No no no Mwalimu.”

“You could think about it, no pressure.”

“That’s not right. Are we done here, I see mum calling.”

Sly got to the car as Mr. Mwangi took his time clearing the bill and watching the smoke waft in the air from his smoldering cigarette-stick at one end of the parking bay, seemingly angered by his backfired moves.

They drove off with no much talk in the car apart from Sly engulfed in retrospection, with Mr. Mwangi trying to do some damage control to his proposal that didn’t go down well with her.

Did he jump the gun?

Photo credit: ebony.com

Platte-land series continues next Monday…

Previously on Platte-land series: Cupid

PLATTE-LAND 015: CUPID

He was the Finance Manager of a top horticultural farm in Naivasha. A medium height kind of man, fairly young until you met his landmark pot belly that seemed to aggravate his age. He described himself as a family man. He was a dad to three kids; 2 sons and one daughter. He had been married for eight years now. You could say he was a social drinker, mostly going out on weekends with his childhood friends and business associates.

He met Shiku on one of those nights. She was with her girls, all being her classmates, from a road trip when they made a sojourn at a popular reveling joint in Naivasha. Two hours down the line, a female waiter brought a magnanimous order to their table. A dozen bottles of Heineken, Smirnoff vodka and the Jameson whiskey stared at them, eagerly waiting for the girls’ acceptance speech. There was no way these city slayers would resist such a generous reward, at least not with this economy. Mr. F.M as Shiku fondly referred him had eyed her from the moment they walked in. He had been mesmerized by her seductive body. She is such an angelic lass, c’mon go and get her number. If she denies you, you’ll at least console yourself by having tried your luck – His mind would tease him.

She seemed to have a commanding personality. Her smile was coherent in the same way it was contagious. Her eyes struck the deepest end of his soul. Her dreadlocks exposed her wild spirits depicting her rebellious nature of not conforming to the norm. She appeared to be an intelligent woman. F.M endeared female intellectualism and women who seemed to be eager-beavers. There is a way female intellectualism smells; like the titillating smell of dust when it rains. He had such a humongous soft spot for lasses with mass and substance too. Shiku packaged herself as one.

Speaking of which, F.M had a wife all men pray to marry. She had brains, followed by beauty. She had a profundity of emotional intelligence and quite an aggressive woman. She quit her job to support his dream of being a business mogul. She detested easy money and comfort zone. She also shun the lazy ideology some ladies hold of being mere gate-keepers of their husbands’ wealth. In sharp contrast, she was an abrasive go-getter. She’d travel the high road of nurturing ideas, fueling them to credible business plans, packaging them until they hatched to promising enterprises and consequently conveying the returns to Mr. F.M.

She was that loyal and hands on. Money didn’t tempt her nor inflict a bruise on their marital union. She’d engage him on where to invest the returns. They were great friends and would keep on forgetting they were marriage partners. Her hands had a thing for nurturing and creating products that didn’t exist. She had a creative mind and a subtle personality at hand, to balance life torrents. Unlike many women who are always after salivating their spouses’ wealth, resulting to hiring hit men to eliminate them for easy wins, she religiously believed in the idea of fostering and making marriage last its full longevity.

He had married his chimera woman. His best friend. His favorite illusion of a superwoman. She was a wife who’d speak of tomorrow’s plans dressed in a loose nightwear while lying in bed lulling the slumber mode and F.M would just nod his balding head in agreement. She’d talk about this deal and that order and of deliveries and collecting cheques where. At times she’d be like; Baba Cleophas, you need to look for that mhindi friend of yours  – Mr. Patel. I’m sure he’d be interested in the supply of Mahogany trees we traced near Uganda – Congo border, now that the ban in Kenya doesn’t seem to be lifted anytime soon. And did you ask Kang’ethe if his restaurant exalted the poultry order we made last month?

But beneath that, was a woman who understood F.M’s intrigues and sophistication depth. She knew when he lied and would smell when he warmed up to sultry women. She’d easily decipher when he played mind games with her, besides peeling off all the layers of deceit being schemed in his testosterone glands. She was a woman, F.M couldn’t underestimate.

However, after a close shave encounter with the sensuous Shiku, temptations were bound and rife. His boys cheered him on and so did his alcohol drink. She seemed to be the cheerleader of her squad and that cajoled him more. He was attracted to women who called the shots. And so, after his order was gladly accepted by these campus ladies, protocol would follow next. He’d walk over, pull a sit uninvited, and introduce himself all out of the blues. Interestingly, they blend easily. Their hearts’ lewd desires flooded their eyes, and so they’d occasionally feel the magnetic-pull, whip up their newly nurtured chemistry. By the end of it all, he was struggling in the deep waters of full-blown manias of lust and infatuation, thanks to Shiku.

He talked about his day job and his passion for his family. The more he shared bits and pieces of how fond he was to his kids and wife, the more attractive Shiku found him to be. He’d throw terminologies and adjectives regarding his job description, and how he flies in and out of the country for business-related workshops and trainings. She would marvel at his flawless grammar and wit. Of course, as it happens, his stupor state plus the excitement of conversing with a fine chiq like Shiku did wonders in motivating his commanding English fluency. His cologne was also unrivaled at such unholy hour – she found that weird.  He’d spew chewed information of; Net margins, Forecasts, Cash-flows, Deferred Tax, Equities, Transfer pricing….. and it would sound Greek to her.

You see, Shiku and Maths units don’t cross paths quite often and were akin to that annoying neighbor who plays loud music you have to contend with until fate coughs otherwise. She abhorred Maths in high school after the subject teacher depicted open bias to weaker students in that unit. Mr. Muriuki otherwise nicknamed as Calculus who also poised as the school’s pastor, blatantly humiliated and overlooked anyone who scored less than 45% in his subject. He took it as a personal affront. As it would turn out, Shiku didn’t do well in that unit but still made it to campus thanks to her passion for Art subjects which led her in enrolling for (B.A) Literature at Mt. Thondio University.

Time was lapsing to drive back to Nairobi at least before the morning rise came out calling. The girls were exhausted for driving a whopping 350km in a day and hiking the Menengai Crater. Shiku dragged F.M off the club to the parking bay. They barged into his car and adjusted their seats. He asked for her number.

The next thing he recalled when he rose from his hangover slumber, the morning after; the day had grown legs but the infatuation to Shiku was still blurring his mind. He smiled when he recalled Shiku planting a kiss on his lips and him cuddling her erotic body. He replayed that yesternight memory script like a million times, smiling to himself as guilt peeped whenever he made those blank stares to the ceiling board.

In no time the doorbell rung, beckoning the arrival of his family from church.

Photo Credit: http://www.afrikglamourmagazine.com

Previously on Platte-Land: Break Up

Read Next: Tryst

 

PLATTE-LAND 014: BREAK UP

2 months ago…

After the startling culmination of their date, she got home, went straight to her bedroom, locked herself in and began sobbing for hours. Exalted, she muddled and kicked anything she came across from the shoe rack that was banged to the wall leaving its components running for safety under the bed, to the blankets that were dragged to the floor. She turned to the orderly wardroom and rendered it into a chaotic jumble. She got hold of her favourite souvenir – A puppy pet gifted by her boyfriend and squeezed it hard between her palms, hurling contempt to it as if it occasioned the cause of their break up. All along, her mum pleaded with her to open the door but her pleas fell on dead ears. Her folks got bewildered by the state of their daughter as it stretched to a couple of days before she opened up to them the venom in her heart and the remnants of a formerly promising relationship.

You see, bringing up millennials nowadays, is equal to preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. The world is twisted due to the amount of shit being thrown around. Sly’s mum would reminisce her heydays when she was a teenager. How strict her parents were as so was the society. Kids had little space to manoeuvre in the name of freedom, including dating. These days a daughter has the guts of telling her dad how her boyfriend cheated on her and the dad will look away and mumble something close to; I told you I didn’t like his hair. I mean, what more could you have expected from him?… as he checks on the tyre pressure of his stunning, chisel bodied 2018 Lexus beast, at the parking bay.

Sly

Surely, why would Chris cheat on me? What warranted this kind of betrayal? When did this start? What did he see in her? I know I don’t have the most alluring body but at least I pay for that with my character. After all, I was always there for him. I’m not the nagging type. I’m not a spendthrift. I’m an intellect and smart. I’ve my life goals all put together. I started a school mag out of the blues. I’m starting my internship at a top media station next week. Who doesn’t want to date a focused woman? What else could a man want? I must have been blinded by his sideburns or was it the cologne and his adventurous nature! Surely, an apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

***

“Hey Njagi”

“Hey!”

“Where are you, in the hostel?”

“Yea, whats up?”

“Nothing. Coming.” Hangs up.

Njagi had a knock on the door only to be met by Sly’s teary eyes and her poignant face. She seemed to have been sobbing for hours. You see, Sly was the emotional type. Anything that pissed her off was enough to provoke her tear glands.

“You don’t look okay.”

“Yea, my life is all messed up.”

“What happened, I hope it’s not Chris again?”

“Imagine it is.” She dived on Njagi’s bed and buried herself on the face with the pillow and started weeping lowly.

Njagi was confused as he pondered how to calm her down.

She got over it after an eventful 10 minutes. The pillow was all soaked with her pungent tears. Her face was pale and fazed. Her hair looked disoriented as if somebody rummaged it, attesting the levels of Chris’s betrayal. She had not taken anything except water, for two days. Her folks were terribly stressed.

“Calm down Sly. Breathe in, breathe out. In life, shit happens. And this one wasn’t your fault. We’re all naive at some point in life but it’s cheap and unbecoming for anyone to take advantage of someone’s naivety. That’s what Chris did.” Njagi tried to console her as she nodded, with her mind miles away.

“You recall when we went out and you informed me how queer he had become?” Njagi dug in another palaver.

“Yes, I remember.”

“My instincts were true. There was a lady distracting him.”

” I just don’t understand why he’d do that to me.”

“What did you two discuss at the so-called makeup date, sorry to ask?”

“You know, Chris is such a hypocrite. He was blaming his queer behavior to depression caused by I don’t know what. In fact, I had decided to hold his hand and walk him over it until it dawned on me, I was on my own and being set up.”

“Ehe keep going.”

“The date was fine until he escorted me to the bus terminus and by grace, she bumped into us.”

“Who bumped into you?”

“That b**** …..and she dared asked who I was to him.”

“Did she look familiar?”

“Not with those chubby cheeks.”

“Did she look hot!….sorry, ignore that.”

She clenched her jaws in utter disgust.

“Did he bother calling back to explain?”

“He didn’t and I don’t give a damn. He is too ashamed.”

“So, what do you think, will you call it quit?”

“I want to call him and make him understand it’s all over between him and me.”

“You know what, before you make that call, you’ll freshen up and I will take you for lunch.”

Njagi knew all the right buttons to make Sly rejuvenated. Call it platonic friendship.

Her favourite meal was anything close to a mushroom pizza. In no time, they checked in at Debonairs Pizza, at ABC Place – Waiyaki Way.  The surprise date worked for Sly as soon as she smelled the location of their lunch set up. Her face warmed up and her eyelids dried up. Finally, the old Sly’s character had resurfaced. They ordered for large size, chicken & mushroom pizza and soft drinks. They talked in length about MUST Zone school mag and basked under the excitement of Sly’s internship at Syokimau FM set to begin in a week’s time.

As they were about to leave, Sly insisted he had to call Chris. Njagi advised that the location was inappropriate plus she hadn’t recovered yet. “Sly, never ever make hasty decisions when you are very angry or happy. You’ll end up regretting soon after.” It was hardly a week after their last encounter.

Sly was adamant though, that the break up had to be settled once and for all. She took her phone and while she typed his name on the phone book, Chris called. It took them by surprise. She had to buy time before picking it just to codify her mind. The baggage of calling the other first had shifted to Chris, and in such a rare moment, she had to rise to the occasion and put to a conclusion this draining situation she was in.

“Hello”

“Hi Sly, how are you?”

“Never mind, what’s the call meant for?”

“Slow down. I thought we should meet.”

“Yea, you deserve meeting your new catch.”

“Don’t be rude.”

“You know what!….”

“Yes, I’m listening.”

“It’s very much over between me and you. Consider yourself a done deal.”

“No, no. We can’t break up on phone.”

“It’s not a request. Boy, smell your fate and deal with it. Forget me.”

“So, are you dumping your other boyfriend as well?”

“Which other boyfriend?”

“Njagi.”

“Leave Njagi out of this.”

“How do I know if you cheated on me with him, previously?”

“Stop using Njagi as your scapegoat….”

“Sly…Sly…Sly…listen to me.”

“Consider yourself dumped.”

“You remember I found you caressing your friend Eunetta and you told me it’s a girls’ thing. Are you a lesbian Sly?”

“Stop side shows Chris.”

“Did Eunetta win you over me?”

“You’re making drama out of nothing. I’d rather remain single than have you in my life. You cheated on me for over half an year.”

“You are kidding me.”

“Kid you not.”

“Babe!”

“Don’t babe me.” Hangs up.

***

“I had my name thrown around”

“He is alleging you are my other boyfriend.”

“What about the lesbian stuff?”

“Let’s not even go there.”

They both sigh off reaching to each other for a well-deserved hug.

 

Photo credit: Chicagonow.com

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